Gringotts Wizarding Bank
by lupin-lupout
Summary: A variety of oneshots, drabbles, poems and and other pieces of writing in the world of Harry Potter. 25. Wild Card - Marlene finds herself trapped in a broom cupboard with her ex-boyfriend.
1. Fleur's Date

A/N: _Hi everyone! Anna here. GWB is a collection of Harry Potter oneshots written for a couple of forums that I participate in, most notably Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry (Challenges & Assignments)._

 _Below is a list of the various oneshots, their summaries and ratings. If there is a star by the title, it means the story was written for an assignment, and was thoroughly examined. At the end of this chapter is the first of the lot, a quick drabble. Enjoy!_

 _x Anna_

* * *

 **-o-O-o-**

 **1\. Fleur's Date**

Fleur receives some advice from her sister in anticipation of her upcoming date. Rated K.

 **2\. Night Lights**

Rolf Scamander and his grandfather share a moment under a starry sky. Rated K.

 **3\. Eleven Years Later***

Dean Thomas has happily been working away in Ollivander's shop for several years now. Eleven years later, he meets a familiar face. Rated K. (Graded 20/20, Outstanding)

 **4\. A Lesson in Pick-Up Lines**

Alice and Frank have a pick-up line competition in the common room. James makes the mistake of learning from them. Rated K.

 **5\. Confessions over Coffee**

Mary has always adored Amelia, and her visits to the café. She can only hope that she feels the same way. Rated K.

 **6\. Petti(grew) Concerns***

Peter is terrified of going to school. Surprising encounters at King's Cross Station might change his mind. Rated K. (Graded 20/20, Outstanding)

 **7\. Oh**

Percy is very unsure about the idea of Virtual Reality. Nevertheless, he gives it a try and is surprised to make a quick friend. Rated K.

 **8\. Not Gryffindor**

Regulus is faced with heavy internal turmoil as he makes his way towards the Sorting Hat. He has a choice to make. Rated K. (For Emiliya!)

 **9\. Heavy Hearts Weigh Us Down**

Seamus was very wrong about war, but grief can connect people. Rated T. Warnings for descriptions of war and death.

 **10\. I Will Be Your Brother***

George tries to cope with the loss that the war has brought upon him. Rated T. Warnings for cursing and angst. (Graded 20/20, Outstanding)

 **11\. Pool Noodle Party***

The Marauders and company are on vacation! Unfortunately for James and Lily, alone time is hard to come by. Rated K. (Graded 20/20, Outstanding)

 **12\. It's a Hard Knock Life***

Remus Lupin joins a werewolf support group, hoping to find comfort and get advice. Rated T. Warnings for angst. (Graded 18/20, Exceeds Expectations)

 **13\. Take Me Home***

Lily Luna hosts a family reunion a couple years after her graduation. She has missed all of her cousins and friends, and is surprised that two in particular never got together. Rated K. (Graded 17.75/20, Exceeds Expectations)

 **14\. Perfect***

As Ginny and Luna travel through Wales, the young Weasley realises that she has a confession to make. Rated K. (Graded 19.75/20, Outstanding)

 **15\. All the Same***

Lyall Lupin saves Hope Howell from a Boggart and falls in love. His problem? She's not quite aware that it was a harmless Boggart. Rated K. (Graded 17/20, Exceeds Expectations)

 **16\. Unchained***

Before they were merciless Death Eaters, they were teenagers, concerned as to how far this would go. Rated T. Warnings for bullying, cursing and death threats. (Graded 16.25/20, Exceeds Expectations)

 **17\. Feel No More (Feel No Less)***

Aberforth Dumbledore drunkenly reflects on his life. Rated T. Warnings for death, canon-typical violence and cursing. (Graded 19/20, Outstanding)

 **18\. A Taste for Danger***

Seamus comes up with a highly-intelligent, definitely-not-dangerous plan to attract Dean's attention. Rated T. Warnings for mild cursing. (Graded 20/20, Outstanding)

 **19\. The Worst in Me***

Cowboy Cormac McLaggen knows his wife is cheating on him, and seeks out revenge. Rated T. Warnings for death. (Graded 20/20, Outstanding)

 **20\. Bloom***

Pomona Sprout tends to her favourite little flower one wintery night, and Minerva brings her warmth. Rated K. (Graded 19.5/20, Outstanding)

 **21\. Take the Time to Know Me***

An earthquake rocks London and brings about the meeting of three magical strangers. Rated T. (Graded 18.75/20, Exceeds Expextations)

 **22\. Stranger***

I thought I knew who Tom Riddle was. I couldn't have been more wrong. Rated T. Warnings for implied death. (Graded 14/20, Acceptable)

 **23\. Little Talks***

George deals with some nervousness hours before his own wedding. Rated T. (Grade pending)

 **24\. Mercy***

Charlie is instructed to kill a notorius assassin before she can kill anyone else. Rated T. Warnings for references to death, mild violence and mental/emotional abuse/manipulation. (Grade pending)

 **25\. Wild Card***

Marlene is locked into a broom cupboard with her ex-boyfriend. Rated T. Warnings for mild cursing. (Grade pending)

 **-o-O-o** **-**

* * *

 **1\. FLEUR'S DATE**

 _ **Family/Comfort, 518 words, Rated K**_

* * *

 _ **Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry (Challenges and Assignments)**_

 _ **Hogwarts Funfair: Puppet Show: Fleur Delacour (Option 2)**_

 _ **Prompts: (word) candle, (word) shopping, (word) date**_

* * *

"'Ello, Bill."

Fleur was seated at her vanity unit, legs crossed and fingers twirling strands of platinum blonde hair as she gazed longingly into the mirror. Her long eyelashes blinked endearingly and she pursed her lips, experimenting with her appearance. Unsatisfied, she adjusted the angle from her head to her shoulder and opted for what she thought was a more subtle greeting.

"Bill, I did not see you zere," she tried, though the effort this time was lacking slightly, and with a sigh, the young woman slumped over on the stool and let out an exasperated sigh. Her hands fell to the desk, knocking a few items out of place.

"Fleur? Qu'est-ce que tu fais?"

Startled, the part-veela straightened up with a jump, turning her dark blue gaze to the doorway in which her younger sister stood. Gabrielle raised an eyebrow in questioning, a small smile playing on her lips.

Fleur smiled at the girl sheepishly, and busied herself with fixing a scented candle she had accidentally bumped as she spoke. "Practising my English," she explained quickly, hiding her reddened face behind a sheet of hair.

"You must be... excited," Gabrielle responded, her nose scrunching as she attempted the pronunciation. The girl was well aware of her older sister's crush on her English coworker - she could ramble on and on about the redheaded man over dinner in the evenings. Now that news had passed through the family that Fleur had fixed herself a date, she was even more giddy with anticipation.

"Excited? I cannot wait," Fleur admitted, her smile widening by the second, before anxiety wiped it from her face. Her tone dropped notably and her cheeks paled. "Do you zink I should get a new dress? Do I 'ave time to go shopping?"

"Non!" Gabrielle answered indignantly, unfamiliar to the point of irritation with the nervous Fleur. Usually, the young woman was blunt with her emotions; if others didn't like her that way, they could move on. If she was frightened that this Bill fellow wouldn't be comfortable with her, she must have really cared for him. "Er - no. If Bill does not like you... for you, 'e eez not ze right man."

Fleur seemed to relax after hearing her sister's opinion on the matter, and smiled once again, allowing her tensed muscles to loosen up. "And my English?"

"It eez perfect," Gabrielle assured the woman with a nod, and couldn't help but catch that contagious grin. "'Ow about mine?"

"Very good," Fleur answered sweetly, and pushed herself back from the vanity unit to stand up and properly stretch out her limbs. She really had been stressing herself out over the upcoming event unnecessarily. The talk, on the other hand, however brief, was very necessary. Leave it up to Gabrielle to find a way to soothe her nerves. "Merci beaucoup, Gabrielle."

The younger part-veela grinned from ear to ear, and made the move towards Fleur to wrap her arms around her. She was catching up on her sister in height, she thought gleefully. "You are welcome, Fleur."


	2. Night Lights

**2\. NIGHT LIGHTS**

 _ **Family, 623 words, Rated K**_

* * *

 _ **Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry (Challenges and Assignments)**_

 _ **Out of this World Challenge: Jupiter**_

 _ **Prompts: (AU) Explorer!AU, (character) Newt Scamander, (dialogue) "I'm staying up to watch the meteor shower"**_

* * *

"Grandpa? Is that you?"

The rainforest came alive at night, chirping and fluttering and howling with a wide and beautiful number of creatures. Rolf could have listened to the night's orchestra for hours, lying in the warm shelter of the tent which he shared with his wife, Luna. He didn't mind what so many others found creepy; and neither did the blonde, now fast asleep beside him. One of many things he admired about the girl.

However, just as he was allowing his eyelids to droop and his mind to unfocus, he happened to pick up on a sharp snapping of twigs right outside of their tent. He froze where he lay, listening attentively, muscles tense and on edge. When the sound ceased to ring out again, he gathered to courage to call out. Perhaps it was Newt; despite the man's age, he had never lost interest in the wild and had persuaded Rolf to let him tag along on the couple's next big adventure. He wasn't always in his right mind at this age (hence why Tina had come along too, to keep him in check) but goodness knows what he got up to when everyone wasn't looking after him.

Again, his call was met with silence. Itching to discover the source of the noise, Rolf knew he wouldn't be able to rest until he was certain of what was out there. As fascinating as the creatures he'd been studying so far were, that didn't make them any less dangerous or unpredictable. He had to ensure that their camp was safe.

Slowly and carefully, the dark-haired man crawled out over Luna, and as quietly and gradually as possible, unzipped the entrance to the tent. A light breeze caught the flaps of thin plastic, toying with them as he scanned the shadows for signs of movement.

Just as he decided to reach for his torch, a blindingly bright light was clicked on straight into his face. Rolf yelped, falling backwards, and in an instant, one hand fell back to prevent him from collapsing on top of his wife and the other muffled his voice.

"Galloping Gargoyles, Rolf, I didn't see you there," Newt apologised profusely, turning down the brightness of his torch quickly. He was seated just outside of the second tent, belonging to himself and Tina.

"And I you," Rolf agreed quietly, caressing his eyelids before attempting to adjust his eyesight to the lighting. "Lucky Luna's a heavy sleeper. What are you doing out here, anyway?"

"I'm staying up to watch the meteor shower," Newt explained sheepisjly. "Not usually my thing, but apparently they're quite rare in this area and I was wondering-"

"-would it affect the wildlife here?" Rolf guessed, and the two exchanged a knowing smile. "I was never good with astronomy, so I couldn't tell you..."

His voice trailed off and his head tipped back, eyes wide with awe as a pale orange streak blazed across the sky. Newt frantically turned off the torch, gazing to the night skies in wonder. Another meteor soared past, closer than the previous, and brighter, too.

"Amazing," Newt commented quietly, a little awestruck by the breathtaking scene.

"Isn't it?" Rolf agreed under his breath, taking a deep breath and fully appreciating everything in that moment; the rustle of trees around their clearing, the night creatures calling out to one another, the one-on-one moment he had the chance to share with his dear old grandfather... and the beauty that was the sky above, the natural night lights bringing a shine to their eyes, a concept he had never given as much credit as it deserved.


	3. Eleven Years Later

**3\. ELEVEN YEARS LATER**

 _ **Family/Friendship, 1,372 words, Rated K**_

* * *

 _ **Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry (Challenges and Assignments)**_

 _ **Assignment #1: Careers Advice: Unpopular Careers: Wandmaker**_

 _ **A/N: Extra credit for a character with a job they do not have in canon.**_

* * *

 _"Parks now in possession of the Quaffle, she's making a break for it - oh, but a nice save there from Smith!"_

The old radio blared on in the back room of the dark and dusty shop. The enthusiastic voice of the Quidditch commentator was all that could be heard throughout the small space, despite the presence of a young man. He was humming contentedly to himself as he worked quietly, his cheerful tune drowned out by the ongoing announcements of the live match.

 _"What's that? Cotton's spotted the Snitch! Green, of course, right on his tail - by Merlin, ladies and gentlemen, this will be a close one - will the Appleby Arrows claim their victory, or are the Wimbourne Wasps about to turn the tables?"_

As the volume seemed to rise even higher with the excitement of the commentator, Dean Thomas carefully turned it down, a focused expression taking hold of his features as he reached the most crucial step in his work. He had chosen an interesting combination of red oak wood and a dragon heartstring core for this particular wand; with the fine carving of the material now nearing completion, it was time for the core to connect with it.

Soft brown eyes observed the process, inquisitive as ever. There was a certain, subtle thrill to wandmaking not many could see, but one that Dean appreciated; an art in his earlier years he would never have imagined practicing. With steady hands, and gleaming silver tweezers, he eased the heartstring into the narrow space from the end of the wand. He waited almost nervously, willing the combination to work out. Given a moment, the wood emitted a warm glow, accepting the core, and Dean let out a soft exhale as the heartstring threaded itself into the wood. Often, his experiments with certain cores and wood types didn't go quite as smoothly. Wands were peculiar things.

As the radio buzzed, reporting a victory for the Appleby Arrows, Dean sealed the end of the wand with a lighthearted grin. Another success - and a satisfying one. He would be eager to meet the witch or wizard who would one day possess such a curious mix, he thought, placing the magical tool into a suitable box. Hopefully it wouldn't take too long - it was always a shame when such a beautiful piece of work was left to gather dust. Though in that case, finding its owner was cause for celebration, in his mind.

The young man's train of thought was dismissed by the ringing of a bell from the front room. Straightening out his robes, Dean slipped between shelves stacked high with boxes to greet his latest customers, only to break into a wide grin as he recognised one of them at once.

"Harry," he noted aloud, nodding pleasantly to his former classmate. "It's been too long."

"Dean," the Boy Who Lived responded, a small smile gracing his chapped lips. "It has. I didn't realise that you worked here. Full-time?"

"I pretty much own the place," Dean joked cheerfully, leaning on the front desk. "It still belongs to the Ollivander family, but now that Garrick's retired, I'm here all day every day." He had become apprentice to the man shortly after graduating Hogwarts (having returned for his seventh year), mainly cleaning up around the shop and taking over when Ollivander couldn't. Unfortunately, the newest generation of Ollivanders had yet to take an interest in wandlore, and Garrick, seriously considering retirement in his delicate old age, had offered the position to Dean.

He paused that train of thought, acknowledging his old friend's company. Beside him stood an older woman, who resembled a certain Lestrange to such an extent that he nearly whipped out his wand in self-defense. However, her curly hair was light and greying, and her eyes kind and wise. Between the two stood a young boy, clearly headed off for Hogwarts, sporting the same raven-coloured messy hairstyle as his godfather.

"Enough about me; who are we here for today?"

Harry nudged the boy forward with an affectionate gaze. "Go on."

"I'm Teddy!" the kid practically shouted, glad for the permission to speak. "Teddy Lupin, but you can call me Ted if you'd like. I need to get a wand for school!"

"So you do," Dean agreed, raising his eyebrows at the boisterous child, whose hair he could have sworn flashed a brilliant shade of blue during his announcements. "Well, let me see what I have for you." He turned to his stock, brown eyes flicking from box to box; reading each scribbled label hastily before making his decision.

"Dogwood, with a unicorn hair core," he explained, opening the box to reveal a wand that was simple in style yet big in personality. "Reasonably sturdy. Give it a flick."

Teddy took the wand with wide eyes and a curious grin. However, as soon as he moved his hand so much as an inch, Dean heard a crash from the back room and winced as the radio cut to static. The kid appeared apologetic, though his sheepish smile hardly faltered as he handed the wand back. "Sorry," he added, after the woman prompted him with a gentle nudge of his foot.

"Not to worry," Dean replied, returning the box to its place. Tricky customers were much more fun to assign wands to. Out came a wand of cypress wood; then apple, neither achieving the positive results. He tried then with wands of the phoenix feather core, some more flexible, and it seemed that the small group had been testing out wands for at least twenty solid minutes before a thought crossed his mind.

"Red oak with dragon heartstring," he stated, handing the boy the wand. "Thirteen inches-"

No sooner had the wand made contact with little Teddy's hand when it let out that same glow that it had only earlier that day. The sign of acceptance; Harry and Andromeda, as she had since been introduced, appeared to be quite proud of the result; Dean himself was beaming; Teddy Lupin's hair flashed a whole rainbow of colours before settling on a watery blue.

"Excellent," Dean spoke up eventually, brimming with pride. There was some sadness that came with the sudden leave of his newest wand, but it had found itself a good owner, and he couldn't deny it that.

"That'll be... nine Galleons, then?" Harry guessed, digging into his pockets.

"Seven for a good friend, Harry," Dean corrected him with a wide smile. "And because you caught me on a good day. That wand should serve you well," he added, glancing at Teddy.

Harry seemed hesitant to agree, but handed Dean the seven golden coins with a grateful expression. "Thanks, Dean," he said. "We should keep in touch more often. I'm sure Albus would love to hear about wandmaking. The kid loves stories."

"Your kid?" Dean assumed, raising his eyebrows. "I'd love to get in touch if he finds this kind of stuff interesting. As supportive as Seamus is, I don't think my husband fully appreciates this kind of art." Or any art, for that matter, he mused. Seamus was obsessed with sports, both Muggle and Quidditch. He too had probably been listening in to the Appleby Arrows play their long-time rivals, the Wimbourne Wasps.

"Yes," Harry responded. "One of them. Goodness, the three are a handful."

"Well, hopefully you should hear from me soon," Dean concluded as the group made their way out the door, Teddy clutching his wand excitedly, eager to get going. Andromeda rolled her eyes, however affectionately, at her grandson's endless source of energy.

Harry simply nodded with a grin as his godson tugged him out onto the street. Dean waved, before returning to the back room. He'd get straight back to his sketchbook, lay out the plans for his next wand; though would sigh first at the sight of the broken radio. He thoroughly enjoyed his occupation, despite the frequent accidents. Every part of it was an adventure; one that did not require a courageous knight or fearless explorer; one that he thought suited him perfectly.


	4. A Lesson in Pick-Up Lines

**4\. A LESSON IN PICK-UP LINES**

 _ **Romance/Friendship, 628 words, Rated K**_

* * *

 _ **Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry (Challenges and Assignments)**_

 _ **Out of this World Challenge: Saturn**_

 _ **Prompts: (word) oxygen, (character) Alice Longbottom, (dialogue) "Are you an alien? Because your arse is out of this world!'**_

* * *

"Are you ill? You must be suffering from a lack of vitamin me."

"Are you a camera? Because I smile every time I see you."

"Are you trash? Because I wanna take you out."

"Are you dead? Because you look like an angel."

"Seriously, if you two don't stop I will throw myself from this tower."

Frank Longbottom and Alice Fortescue glanced up from their positions on the red couch to see Sirius Black near the window, about ready to pull his hair out. The Gryffindor common room had been crowded earlier due to the miserable weather outdoors; however, once the couple had gotten started on a pick-up line competition, the room had hastily emptied with the exception of a few.

"In that case..." Frank said slowly, watching the younger boy. He turned back to his girlfriend with a grin. "Are you a farmer? Because-"

"No, really," Peter interrupted, glancing over from a conversation with Remus, clearly unimpressed. "They're just getting progressively worse. You're humiliating everyone in the room."

"Don't be so cheerful, Pete," Alice advised him mischievously. "People might think you're not taking things seriously."

"Who's winning?" Frank inquired eagerly, turning to James, who sat on the carpet watching the couple go back and forth.

"Alice," James decided after a moment of intense thought. "Yours are kind of creepy, to be honest, Frank."

"Ha!" Alice teased the dark-haired Gryffindor with a triumphant gaze, standing on the couch. "Bow before me, peasant.'

"Honestly, I wish I could say they were drunk," Sirius mused, watching them with an expression of genuine concern.

"Waste your oxygen on something else, you two," Peter suggested lightheartedly before beckoning Sirius over to discuss what would likely be another prank.

"Nevermind them," James told the older Gryffindors with a bright smile. "They're all in a bad mood because of the weather. We had big plans for Hogsmeade today, but nobody is going to be there in these conditions. Sirius usually loves pick-up lines."

"And what puts you in such a good mood?" Alice asked the spectacled boy curiously.

"I'm learning from this session," James responded earnestly.

The couple exchanged worried glances. The pick-up lines were a joke, really, though Potter seemed cheerfully honest about learning from their competition of cringe.

"Ha," Frank chuckled half heartedly, almost scared to ask. "For what, exactly?"

At that precise moment, the portrait swung open to reveal a stunning redheaded beauty. The pale light from the cloudy sky outside illuminated her freckled face with a misty glow; the way she held her books to her chest modestly was so incredibly attractive; from the way she walked with purpose, to the roll of her eyes when she noticed his presence in the common room, everything about Lily Evans made James fall head over heels for her.

Through anyone else's eyes, as Lily briskly made her way to the girls' dorms, she appeared to be mighty pissed off already. Bad weather made it difficult for anyone to think positively, and any other negative situation left a resounding effect.

"Her," James breathed, getting to his feet slowly and brushing off his weekend clothes.

"James," the Marauders warned him, almost speaking as one. However, the dark-haired idiot ignored their concerns, chasing after his future wife, drool practically hanging from the corners of his lips.

"Hey Lily!" he called up to her as her flaming head of hair disappeared upstairs. "Are you an alien? Because your arse is out of this world!"

"Sorry, James," Lily called back, irrtated.

James grinned. "It's oka-"

"But I don't speak stupid, you're going to need a translator."

"And a trip to the hospital wing for that one," Alice mused.


	5. Confessions over Coffee

**5\. CONFESSIONS OVER COFFEE**

 _ **Romance, 656 words, Rated K**_

* * *

 _ **Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry (Challenges and Assignments)**_

 _ **Fun with Fishing Challenge**_

 _ **Prompts: (spinners) CoffeeShop!AU, (F6, #7) Mary/Amelia**_

* * *

 _ **Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry (Challenges and Assignments)**_

 _ **Out of this World Challenge: Mars**_

 _ **Prompts: (word) shuttle, (song) Muse "Starlight", (dialogue) "Do you think there could be life on other planets?"**_

* * *

Starlight.

There was something about Amelia Bones that Mary Macdonald simply craved - her starlight. The woman just seemed to shine; perhaps it was her personality, so wonderfully strong-willed and fair, or how the pale morning sunlight caught the strands of her chocolate brown hair as she pushed through the doors of the coffee shop.

Amelia often shuttled to and from the small café during the weekdays. Mary worked at _The Spring Teacup_ Monday to Friday, and somewhere in the back of her mind, a doubtful hope convinced her Amelia showed up each day just for her. Her hopes and expectations were unlikely to be the truth, however, logic explained.

Madam Bones walked up to the counter where Mary stood, giving the woman a small smile.

 _Starlight,_ Mary couldn't help but think once again, her heart fluttering under Amelia's friendly gaze. _I'll be chasing your starlight until the end of my life._ "The usual?" she guessed, breathy laughter hiding her shaking voice.

"Yes, please," Amelia replied politely.

Mary felt butterflies as her long-time crush spoke up, and turned away to prepare the woman's coffee and hide her reddening face. Goodness, what a mess she became whenever Amelia was around. She electrified her life.

"Here it is," Mary piped up, approaching the table where Amelia had seated herself, flicking through a copy of _The Daily Prophet._ She set the mug down gently, offering the woman a smile as she glanced up, her stomach doing somersaults all the while.

"Do you think there could be life on other planets?" Amelia inquired, reading a headline with mild interest.

"M-me?" Mary asked quietly, turning around. She had been about ready to walk away again, ashamed of herself for the consistent lack of interaction with her crush.

"Well, yes," Amelia replied, mildly amused. She gestured to the rest of the small space; only Mary's coworker and another couple in the corner chatting amiably were present.

 _Not another couple,_ Mary corrected herself. _A couple._ She watched as the man and woman embraced lovingly, and wondered vaguely if Amelia would ever let her hold her in her arms. _And I_ _would never let her go._

"M-maybe not in our solar system," Mary answered hastily, before the silence stretched on for too long. "But I think it's entirely possible."

"A wise opinion," Amelia praised the young woman with a nod of approval. Mary felt compelled to squeal, though stifled the temptation. She watched Amelia's lips swooping down on each word; naturally, she began to imagine them whispering to her, _I love you,_ and felt a shiver run down her spine.

"I love you too," she murmured under her breath, forgetting herself for a moment.

Amelia's gaze snapped up, wide-eyed, startled by the confession. "How did you-"

"No, wait! Do you-"

""You mean-"

"You love-?"

The two women froze, staring each other straight in the eyes. Mary sat down promptly, feeling her knees wobble precariously. Despite the clinking of cutlery and cups, and the ongoing murmurs in the background, the world around them felt completely still and silent, aside from the beating of their hearts and the heat in their cheeks.

"Mary," Amelia began, slowly and warily. "Please be honest. Do you love me?"

Mary swallowed nervously, her throat dry and nerves on fire. "Yes," she croaked, ducking her head in shame. "I'm sorry, Miss Bones-"

"No, no, it's okay," Amelia interrupted softly. "And for you, it's Amelia."

"Amelia," Mary echoed shyly, making eye contact with the woman once again. She was as beautiful as ever; even more so, with a pink hint upon her features and sheepish smile on pursed lips. "Do you love me?" The question was posed with more nerves than Mary was aware of; she felt sick to her stomach, awaiting the answer. Yet it came from the woman with quiet confidence.

"I do."


	6. Petti(grew) Concerns

**6\. PETTI(GREW) CONCERNS**

 _ **Friendship, 1,907 words, Rated K**_

* * *

 _ **Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry (Challenges and Assignments)**_

 _ **Assignment #2: Transfiguration: Transfiguration Formula**_

 ** _Task:_** _Write about a person who unnecessarily worries too much about a certain situation that turns out fine in the end._

 _ **Prompts:** (colour) peach, (action) giggle_

* * *

"No... _no_..."

The child felt himself breaking out into a cold sweat as he stumbled towards the castle doors. He felt the burning stares of his classmates from all sides where they hid under the cover of darkness. He heard their whispers and laughs, saw a pointing finger from the bushes in the corner of his eye. A finger pointing at him.

The humiliation caused his entire face to heat up and chubby hands to shake. He felt his eyes watering as a couple of whispers rose in volume; "Fatty!" He heard a giggle to his right. "Look at how stupid he is!"

"No!" he cried out, choking on a sob. Every word cut him like a knife. He broke into a clumsy run, desperate to escape the demeaning remarks.

The huge doors loomed far above him, closed tightly shut. The chanting of insults grew louder and louder where his back was turned, and he banged on the heavy doors, hot tears of shame running down his cheeks. His fat cheeks. He hated them, and he hated the teasing students and the stupid doors.

"Please! Let me in!" he sobbed, his voice cracking.

Without warning, the great tall doors slowly melted away in a slow wave of glowing orange lava. His hands, where they had been pressed to the wood, had vanished, and miraculously he felt no pain. Inside of the castle resembled his own bedroom for some odd reason, though he was much more focused on the stern older witch standing before him now. Her lips were pursed and eyes narrowed with disapproval. She folded her arms, shaking her head silently, though in his head an angry voice was echoing, "no!"

His own voice joined the racket building up inside his head, screaming something unintelligible among the rest of the noise. It was too much; he was feeling light-headed and the world around him was beginning to blur and spin; and suddenly he was falling through space.

"NO!"

Peter Pettigrew hit the bed with a jolt, his chest heaving as he gasped for breath. Warily, he touched an unsteady hand to his face. His cheeks were wet with spilled tears, his forehead burning something awful and his mousy brown hair sticky with sweat.

The small boy whimpered, attempting to rid his mind of the nightmare. Merlin help him - it might have been six in the morning, but it was still September first. He was starting at Hogwarts that very day.

Cold fear crawled up his spine and he shivered, throwing the duvet off of his body despite the drastic changes in temperature. His pin-striped pajamas clung to his large frame, sopping with sweat.

This couldn't be happening - no way was he going to school. The worry had been building up all summer with a variety of horrible dreams, but now he had to face the truth. He was sure of how it would go - kids were always picking on him for his weight and less-than-average level of intelligence. Hogwarts would be no different. His mother insisted that this was his chance to make real friends and start afresh, but he had convinced himself otherwise. That day marked the beginning of the real nightmare.

"Petey, honey, what's wrong?"

He must've woken her up with his tossing and turning. His mother was at his side in seconds, not even bothering with the light switch. She promptly pulled him into an embrace, which very nearly brought on another bout of tears.

"Nightmare," he mumbled, twiddling his thumbs anxiously.

"You're not still worried about school, are you?"

"Is homeschooling an option?"

"Peter," Mrs Pettigrew murmured softly, ruffling his hair affectionately. If she noticed the sweat, she had chosen to ignore it. "You'll be fine. Just be yourself."

"What if they don't like me for myself?"

"Then they're missing out on a valuable friend."

Peter fell quiet, considering this. He wasn't at all assured after a summer of torturous waiting for a disaster, but there was clearly no point in arguing his point about homeschooling. She was convinced this was right for him.

"You should shower and get ready to leave, if you won't fall asleep again," she prompted her son with a soft smile. So she had noticed the state of him - though there wasn't much he could do about that other than shower.

Even the comforting warmth of the falling water didn't make the poor boy feel any better. He felt sick to his stomach with nerves - this was a horrble idea, going to school. He was certain of his future. Everyone was going to laugh and point, just like in his dreams. The humiliation of it all... and it would be real this time, not something he could brush off once he woke up. He had to do something to prevent it!

However, before he had a long enough chance to devise a flawless plan, his mother was escorting him through King's Cross Station and his heart was racing in his throat. He barey had the strength to push his trolley; his limbs were so shaky that it kept wobbling and bumping into Muggles who shot him scornful glances. Mrs Pettigrew eventually pushed it herself with a sigh, though smiled as they approached the barrier.

"Right through there, Peter," she explained, doing her best to act cheery for her son. "Grab on!"

Peter edged in beside her, gripping the trolley with sweaty palms. Even as he ran, he knew far too well that the heavy breathing was not from the burst of speed, but rather panic flooding his body. Everything within him was screaming at him how bad of an idea this was. What was he doing? He couldn't do this. _Merlin_ , he really was going to be sick...

There was no wonder or awe in his watery blue eyes as the gleaming Hogwarts Express came into view, its puffy white smoke hanging above the crowd as it whistled for more passengers. It was five to eleven - he had five minutes to convince his mother to turn around and take him home.

Peter spun around to face the woman, pulling his best puppy-eye expression, though unfortunately was met with the ground instead as somebody had shoved him back.

"Ow! Hey!" he cried out, trying to ignore the stinging pain in his elbows. He glanced up weakly, seeking out who had pushed him, and noticed an outstretched hand near his face. "Woah-" he mumbled, his gaze travelling up the arm to find the apologetic face of another boy, about his age. Peter stared for a moment - it was difficult not to, with the numerous scars ripping through the stranger's cheeks.

"I-I'm really sorry about that," the boy murmured sheepishly, ducking his head under Peter's gaze. He caught himself staring and hastily glanced away. "I wasn't looking where I was going."

"It's okay!" Peter insisted with a hopeful smile, finally taking the hand and pulling himself up gratefully. "Neither was I. Uh, thanks."

"I'm Remus," the scarred boy introduced himself, returning the smile reluctantly. "Remus Lupin."

"Hi Peter, I'm Remus," Peter replied quickly, determined not to mess up. Realisation set in quickly that he already had, and his face flushed immediately. "No - no, wait... hi Remus, I'm Peter. Pettigrew. Peter Pettigrew."

"Are you a first year too?" Remus queried curiously, as Peter brushed off his pants.

"Yeah!" Peter answered, immensely relieved to hear that he had just had a positive encounter with a classmate. He didn't want to push his luck, but... "do you... want to sit with me on the train?"

"Sure," Remus agreed, a wide smile crossing his uneven features. "I'd love to."

"Great!" Peter squeaked, his voice cracking with disbelief. His worries were completely forgotten as he boarded the train with Remus, after a lengthy goodbye hug with his mother, of course (who was in tears with delight as he gestured to his new friend).

With so little time left before departure, finding a free compartment was a difficult task. Eventually they settled for one that was empty with the exception of a dark-haired boy sleeping in the corner.

"He looks about our age," Peter observed, seating himself cautiously next to the boy. "Do you think he's a first year too?"

"I sure am!"

Remus and Peter both had to take a second glance at the boy. He cracked a grin and opened his eyes before stretching out his limbs and studying his company with mild interest.

"You were awake?" Remus asked, raising an eyebrow. "Why didn't you say anything?"

"I did. I said, I sure am!"

Peter blinked a couple of times, dumbfounded by either how remarkably stupid this boy was, or how sarcastic. Or was it mischievous? Was there a difference? Maybe it wasn't his place to call anyone else stupid just yet.

"I'm kidding, Merlin," the boy continued as neither Remus nor Peter spoke up. He smirked, leaning back into the stiff leather. "I figured my chances of making friends on the spot were pretty crappy, but if I managed to get a compartment with someone I could lock the door and force them to like me."

Remus seemed concerned by the boy's idea of friendship, though decided not to question that part. "Why was the sleeping necessary?"

"I wasn't sleeping, I was pre-tend-ing," he explained, and sighed once more as he was met by silence. "Merlin, does anyone have a sense of humour? This is what happens growing up in that bloody house..."

"I'm Peter," Peter piped up, interrupting his train of thought. "And this is Remus. If you wanted to be friends, you could've just asked." Gathering up a little courage, he offered the strange boy an amiable smile.

"Sirius Black," Sirius responded, a genuine smile finally taking to his peachy face.

The door slid open suddenly, revealing a fourth boy, a spectacled kid with hair that was in desperate need of a comb. His hands were on his hips and a confident grin taken to his features as he gazed at each of them in turn.

"Peter, Remus, Sirius," he spoke up, gesturing to each of them in turn. "Heard everything. M'name's James Potter, fellow firstie and I'll be sitting with you today."

Without another word, he promptly fell into place beside Remus, who studied this James with caution.

"Alright," Sirius agreed, grinning at the boy. "I don't have a problem with it." Peter and Remus hastily chipped in their own agreements, and the compartment fell into an awkward silence for a moment as each boy watched the others, waiting for a conversation starter. The train rocked into motion, though still no words were exchanged.

To his own surprise, it was Peter who managed to speak loud enough first. His voice came out in a slight squeak as he found his nerves slowly crawling back to him. "So... are we friends, then?"

"Of course," Remus assured him instantly, having picked up on the short boy's insecurities.

"Duh," Sirius added with a goofy grin, which James adopted himself.

"We're a team now, right?" the spectacled boy spoke up, causing them all to smile.

Though out of all four grins, Peter's was the widest.


	7. Oh

**7\. OH**

 _ **Adventure, Romance, 1,500 words, Rated K**_

* * *

 _ **Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry (Challenges and Assignments)**_

 _ **Out of this World Challenge: Pluto:**_ _(AU) VirtualReality!AU, (character) Percy Weasley, (dialogue) "Want an out of this world experience?"_

 ** _Thrift Shop Day:_** _(object) mounted t-rex head_

 ** _Hogwarts Birthday: Jenga:_** _(location) antiques shop_

* * *

"Want an out of this world experience?"

The woman behind the counter raised an eyebrow at the shabby-clothed redhead as he entered the narrow building, though recited her lines half-heartedly despite. She didn't bother sitting up or removing her shoes from the desk as he approached gingerly.

"You here to collect somebody?"

"N-" Percy frowned at his nervous stutter. He had nothing to be ashamed of, participating in these Muggle activities. It had been George's suggestion; his younger brother had found some enjoyment in virtual realities, using them as a coping method after the war. Percy was still struggling to make amends with his family, but treating Muggles like equals as they did was a good start. "No. I've booked a room, er-" he fumbled in his pocket for a slip of paper, "32."

The woman finally straightened her back, rolling the chair towards a laptop. After a few clicks, she glanced back at him. "Percy Weasley?"

"Yeah," Percy admitted with a weak smile, running a pale hand through his combed hair.

She led him up the elevator, several floors and hallways, before opening a door into a small room with a bed. Percy entered reluctantly, swallowing as the door was locked behind him. He wasn't entirely sure how to - no, no, he could figure this out, he was smart. He lay down, eyeing the helmet above his head before pulling it on. Simple, right? As soon as his eyes were covered, he felt himself fall limp for a split second.

The next, he was standing in a completely different world. Blinding sunlight cause him to bring a hand up to shield his eyes, which he did with surprising ease. The outfit he was wearing was not at all his threadbare, secondhand robes, but light and silky, fitting his body perfectly. He'd never worn shoes so comfortable!

All his senses were working perfectly; yet the scenery around felt like a dream. He stood at the edge of a small medieval-style town, swimming with movement and life. This was one of George's favourites, apparently. The fantasy world. There were people with green skin, long tails, magic staffs, golden armour; it was unbelievable. He still felt like himself, though - his hair was red, and skin freckled. He did, however, notice a weight on his back, now that he thought about it.

He slipped off a satchel carefully, wary of the tinkling of glass. It was filled with jars of colourful leaves or slow-flowing liquids. He wasn't sure what exactly they were for, or why he was equipped with them, but felt tempted to begin experimenting with the different ingredients.

"Hey, newbie!"

A young woman was approaching him, jet black hair falling in a shiny sheet around her shoulders. She smirked as he stared, dumbfounded by the length of the blade she gripped in one hand, and the battle gear she wore.

"Me?" He managed to speak up eventually, choking on his words, quickly slipping the bag over his shoulder and standing up again.

"You better move," she explained, stopping a few feet away with a mischievous grin.

"Um-"

"You're standing on the spawn point."

"The wha-"

"The minute someone else joins the game, you'll be trampled."

"I-"

With an eye roll, she grabbed his wrist and tugged with surprising strength. He stumbled forward into her, his cheeks reddening immediately, just as he heard a crack behind him. It reminded him of the sound of someone apparating or disapparating, and sure enough, when he glanced over his shoulder, a younger kid was staring around in awe.

Percy scrambled to get out of the woman's personal space, blushing profusely. "I - er - thanks," he stuttered, awkwardly straightening his clothes and smoothing his hair for the sole purpose of putting his hands to use.

"No problem," she responded, the words slipping so easily through her lips. She seemed amused by how nervous he was acting. "Is it your first time?"

"Yes," Percy replied weakly, smiling sheepishly at the beautiful young lady. "Is it obvious?"

"A little," she agreed with a smirk, extending a delicate hand to him which he now knew was remarkably strong. "My name's Audrey."

"Percy." He took her hand, praying that his own weren't slippy with sweat, and tried to grip it as firmly as she did his.

"Well, I've only been around for a half hour or so, but I know my way around well enough," Audrey admitted, turning smoothly on her heels. Percy admired her balance, and followed as if in a trance as she beckoned him to.

"Where are we going?" he asked, trying hard not to stare too much.

"The bar, I just told you," Audrey repeated, amused. "A fellow named Gus works behind the counter. Knows everybody. If there's a quest, he'll give it to you."

"Oh."

 **-o-O-o-**

The bar was an impressive building in the centre of the village. It had a high ceiling in the main room and several floors with beds to rent. The tables were filled with a variety of odd-looking strangers chatting over mugs. There was a warm, jolly atmosphere of the room was soothing to Percy's nerves.

The man behind the counter must have been an npc; the way he ran around cleaning cups or pouring drinks seemed very rhythmic. As the pair approached, he put down the towel he was holding and stood still.

"Good day, my friends," he greeted them with what seemed a generic smile. "My name is Gus. What will it be today? A drink? A bed? A quest?"

"A quest for a knight and an alchemist," Audrey said, leaning on the counter with an eager grin.

Percy considered this curiously. Audrey, with her sheathed sword and fitted gold armour, was obviously the knight. This meant that he, with his bag of bottles and potion ingredients, was the alchemist. Unless, of course, he was just assuming and she had some other teammate-

"Did you hear that?"

"Hmm?" Percy turned to the woman, suddenly attentive.

"The librarian is looking for a mounted t-rex head. We should be able to pick one up at the antique shop, though they'll want something special in return, without a doubt."

"Oh."

 **-o-O-o-**

Audrey's guess had been an accurate one. In exchange for the antique shop's prized mounted t-rex head, the seller had been looking for a rare potion ingredient he owed to a dear friend. Unfortunately, Percy's beginners' pack didn't come with such luxuries, and though the hunt for such an ingredient had taken the two an entire day in-game, he couldn't remember a time he'd had so much fun.

As the pair had explored colourful forests and stunning open countryside, he had relaxed into this alternate world. He enjoyed the time he spent with Audrey immensely. She had a fiery yet kind personality, the kind of person he strived to be. Every time their eyes made contact, he felt his heart flutter, and every word she spoke sent pleasant shivers down his spine. She was beautiful and confident and clever, and he was in love.

 _Don't be stupid, Perce,_ he scolded himself as he entered the antiques shop once more with her. _She's just a Muggle, and you're an idiot. You can't fall in love with someone in a day. You just admire her._

"That was fun," Audrey remarked, once she'd managed to grasp the huge head securely under her arm. They waved the shop owner goodbye, closing the door on the dusty old shop with its shelves of strange items.

"Definitely," Percy agreed, grinning like an idiot.

"Y'know, if you're in a rush, you don't have to stick around. I'll bring this back to the library, and collect our reward from Gus."

"No, no, it's okay! I'll stay with you."

Audrey smiled at this, and Percy wondered if there was a hint of pink on her cheeks or if he was imagining it. "Are you sure? I can give you the reward next time you join the game."

"There will be a next time?" Percy asked, his smile widening. He felt nothing like his usual self; despite the attempts to impress Audrey during the quest, she gave off the feeling that he didn't need to. Everything she did was done with such grace, whereas he was terrified to make a mistake. He didn't want to get flustered in front of her, yet when he did she brushed it off like nothing. And so when he grew in confidence, she only encouraged it. He never acted like this with his family; in this world he could let his hair down and smile.

"Of course," Audrey replied. "I love spending time with you."

It was his turn for his cheeks to heat up.

"Oh."


	8. Not Gryffindor

**8\. NOT GRYFFINDOR**

 _ **Family, Angst, 1,092 words, Rated K**_

* * *

 _ **For Emiliya :)**_

 _ **Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry (Challenges and Assignments)**_

 _ **Hogwarts Birthday: Treasure Hunt: A7:**_ _Write a gift-fic for Emiliya_

 ** _Hogwarts Birthday: Pinata Challenge: Family:_** _Write a fic containing a family_

 ** _Out of this World Challenge: Moon:_** _(word) moonlight, (character) Regulus Black, (dialogue) "Never ignore a coincidence. Unless you're busy. In which case, always ignore a coincidence."_

* * *

Sometimes family really sucked.

Regulus felt like he was carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders as he shuffled up the aisle behind at least forty other first years. Most were whispering in excitement, pointing fingers to the enchanted ceiling, where pale moonlight shone down upon them through dark clouds, or seeking out siblings or cousins seated at a table already. Regulus kept his head down, anxiety crawling through his thoughts. He knew where Sirius was, wearing his badge of red-and-gold, watching curiously. He knew where his cousins were, smiling unpleasantly, on the other side of the hall. He knew he had to make a choice.

Why had all the fun that came with arriving at a magical school been taken away and replaced by stress? Why did all the stress land on his shoulders?

 _Because,_ the logical side of his brain began, _your parents are depending on you to carry on the family tradition of being sorted into Slytherin. Sirius broke this tradition and the family hates him for it. He wants you to be yourself but your parents want you to do what they want or throw away their love._

Wow, family really could suck.

His name would be one of the first, he thought, thumbs instinctively reaching for each other to soothe his nerves. McGonagall was already studying the scroll, the stool and hat waiting patiently at her side.

Regulus decided to take a risk and glanced over to the Gryffindor table. He spotted Sirius almost immediately, the boy's unruly dark hair sticking out in the crowd like a sore thumb. As the brothers' gazes met, Sirius offered him a thumbs up and a weak smile. Regulus wanted to cry.

Sirius was actually giving him a chance. If he chose Gryffindor, or anything other than Slytherin, frankly; if he ignored tradition and rebelled against the family and their beliefs, he had an opportunity to bond with his older brother like he never had before.

The hat was singing now, and Regulus rubbed his temples, turning away. The lyrics were distracting him. He faced the other side of the hall now, to the table under hangings of silver and green. He could see Narcissa in their ranks, who smiled gently at him, sitting next to that blond Malfoy, her boyfriend. He could imagine hos entire family seated at that table. Everyone except Sirius.

He admired his brother for his daring bravery, though never mentioned this to his parents. And though he wanted Sirius to admire him too, he was very close to Walburga and Orion. Was it really worth it, throwing it all away for hope?

He had a steady relationship with his parents. He loved them, and they him. He couldn't bring himself to betray them just because he thought his older brother would like him more.

The singing had stopped. McGonagall was speaking now. A name. His heart was racing, thumbs twiddling more aggressively now than ever.

 _Who do you choose?!_

"Black, Regulus."

He was standing at a fork in the path, two tempting lives set out before him, though shrouded in mist. He couldn't see the future, but had a vague idea of it. He couldn't live with a foot in both worlds. It was his entire family or Sirius.

He found the hat over his head before he was aware that he had moved. A new, foreign voice was introduced to the conflict in his mind.

 _"Another Black, eh? I see... you are troubled, boy."_

Regulus remained quiet and stiff, terrified of judgement.

 _"I sense bravery in you. Immense courage... a will to do what is right. You know, these are key traits in a Gryffindor. There is ambition, however, determination to achieve. Wisdom, and fierce loyalty... I say, I do meet some all-rounders but you are one of a kind."_

"Do I have a choice?" He found the words slipping past his lips before he let them.

 _"Well, of course you do. It is your mind, after all. The choice, in the end, is yours to make. It is my duty to guide you."_

"What do you think?"

 _"I think you would make a fine Gryffindor, but an equally great Slytherin. Your most evident traits appear in both houses."_

"I..." Regulus trailed off, his fists clenching, slippy with sweat.

 _"I sense that this choice is one you need to make, Regulus, not me. Because to you, it's much more than simply one house or the other, isn't it?"_

"Slytherin." It came out just like that.

 _"SLYTHERIN!"_

 **-o-O-o-**

He couldn't sleep. The decision was made, yet he felt the burning regret and guilt as soon as he had seen Sirius' expression drop and head turn with disappointment. The negative feelings would have come either way, he tried to assure himself, though it wasn't all that comforting. He lay in his bed, staring at the green hangings, tossing and turning and tensing and relaxing.

"Regulus, right?"

He flinched, sitting up, startled by the voice behind him. Another boy was peering in, a look of concern on his features. Regulus barely recognised him as the kid who had fallen into the lake.

"Can't sleep?" he guessed, sitting on the edge of the bed.

"No," Regulus responded quietly, and then gave him an apologetic glance. "I didn't realise anyone else was awake, sorry if I-"

"No, it's fine," the boy replied quickly, waving away his concerns. "I'm Evan. Evan Rosier."

"Regulus Black."

"You must be a pureblood, then, right?"

"Yeah..."

"I bet your whole family's been in Slytherin," Evan continued with a grin as Regulus nodded reluctantly. "Wow, me too!"

Regulus didn't feel quite as enthusiastic about this observation. He let his gaze drop to the floor, feeling slightly uncomfortable about the subject.

"Hey, are you okay?" Evan asked, leaning down to make eye contact once more, a wide smile adopting his features. "Sickle for your thoughts?"

Regulus didn't exactly want to confide his feelings with a classmate he'd just met, but the moment he let the words spill he felt hugely relieved to share the burden. He briefly explained the situation, a curious thought wiggling its way into his mind as he spoke. "Do... do you think it's just a coincidence, that my entire family was sorted into Slytherin?"

"I don't know, but you should never ignore a coincidence. Unless you're busy."

Regulus raised an eyebrow, bemused. "In which case?"

"Always ignore a coincidence."


	9. Heavy Hearts Weigh Us Down

**9\. HEAVY HEARTS WEIGH US DOWN**

 _ **Tragedy/Hurt, 1,242 words, Rated T**_

* * *

 ** _Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry (Challenges and Assignments)_**

 ** _Northern Hogwarts Funfair: Kissing Booth:_** _Seamus Finnigan x Severus Snape kissfic_

 ** _Eastern Hogwarts Funfair: Ferris Wheel:_** _Tragedy (genre)_

 ** _Southern Hogwarts Funfair: Hedge Maze:_** _Muggle!AU_

 ** _Chocolate Frog Cards Club: Seamus Finnigan (Silver):_** _Seamus Finnigan_

 ** _Seasonal Challenges: Days of the Year: Armed_ _Forces_** _ **Day:** ArmedForces!AU; **Summer Prompts:** "I wish I wasn't wearing this shirt" (dialogue); **Colour Prompts:** Gold; **Birthstones: Sapphire:** "What do you do when there's nothing but pain left inside of you?" (dialogue); **Flowers: Foxglove:** Heart (word); **Shay's Musical Challenge: Book of Mormon:** Travelling away from home for a long time; **Gryffindor Themed Prompts: Characters (Easy):** Seamus Finnigan; **Gryffindor Themed Prompts: Other Prompts:** Gold (colour); **Summer Astronomy Prompts: Mars At Opposition:** Anger (emotion)_

* * *

Seamus couldn't have been more wrong about war.

He had signed up for the army when the news came ringing out that his country was at war. The world had been at war for a while and it was unexpected that his homeland was getting involved. But his people needed men to go and fight, and there was no greater honour, in his eyes.

Plus, Dean had been enlisted, and if he was going, so was Seamus. They'd been inseperable their whole lives; a small spat between world powers wasn't going to be the end of that.

Well, war was a lot bigger than a small spat. It was cruel, and haunting and dangerous. Out on the field, he'd never been so afraid. His ears were still ringing with sounds of gunfire and bombs, the screams of innocent men put through painful deaths and the sobbing of families who had lost too many for stupid reasons. His heart was still pounding fiercely, wary of the constant danger, despite the shelter of the infirmary tent.

He'd been lucky. One trip to the front lines had put an end to his adventures at war. Dean had been at his side when the mine was set off, but Seamus had taken the worst of it. Both his legs, right up to his knees. Gone, just like that. There'd been blood, so much, _too_ much, but Dean, despite his own injuries, would never abandon him, never give up on him. He dragged him right out of the fray. Thanks to Dean, he'd gotten immediate medical attention and a one-way ticket home.

But Dean was unlucky. He was still deemed okay for battle. They were separated for the first time in years, and nothing could have been more unfair. Dean deserved so much better than to return to the panic and hunger and fear.

Seamus lay there, unable to move on his musty thin mattress, filled with rage and upset and fear. He'd been a fool to join the fight. It had caused him so much pain; not just physically, but mentally. He was exhausted in both aspects, from constant anxiety and lack of sleep. He was scrawnier and more dishevelled than he'd ever appeared. And he missed Dean so much.

Where was his friend now? Shaking with panic in a trench, as Seamus once had? Bleeding out from a bomb, with no-one to drag him to safety? And no matter what Seamus told himself, he knew that alive or dead, Dean was suffering.

Tears welled up in his bloodshot eyes, and a sob escaped his bloodied, chapped lips, unable to be stifled anymore. He didn't fight it; he didn't know if he could. He let the tears pour, let himself choke on the sobs, let everything out until there was only empty space left in its wake. And then he lay there, sniffling pathetically.

"I wish I had never gone to war," he whispered to himself fiercely, his voice too hoarse to speak. Not that it mattered; his wishes fell on the ears of sleeping men. Perhaps some of them, unmoving in their beds, were dead. He rubbed at his eyes furiously, the sleeve of his camo jacket grazing his cheeks. At this point, he had shrunk so much that it was far too baggy on him. "I wish I wasn't wearing this shirt." He sniffed again, almost collapsing back into a fit of tears. "I wish Dean and I were back home."

His pitiful confessions were interrupted abruptly as through the flap of the tent, a group of nurses rushed inside, almost a dozen moaning men on stretchers carried between them. To his horror, Seamus _recognised_ the men; there was Zabini, Boot and even Sergeant Potter. The stench of blood that filled the room was unbearable, and the entire situation made Seamus sick to his stomach.

A final man marched in the door, this one on his feet and without so much as a scratch. Seamus was familiar with him too; one glance at the stony expression and cold eyes told him that Major Snape had just entered the tent. It was a surprise to see him in person. He usually didn't bother with the regular soldiers.

"What happened?" One of the nurses asked him, her voice a hushed whisper though just loud enough for Seamus to catch.

"The enemy breached the front lines," Snape reported icily, carefully adjusting the gold buttons of his fancy jacket. "We rescued what soldiers we could."

Seamus couldn't help himself. He sat up with a pained grunt, fear coursing through him. "What happened to the others?" Dean was a part of that squadron.

"Dead," Snape replied, expressionless.

Seamus froze, his heart pounding in his ears as icy fear shot up his spine. No - no, that couldn't be true, not Dean, _not Dean._ He scanned the survivors; and then again, and then a third time. Dean was not amongst them. No, no no no _no..._

Snape studied his face cautiously as the nurse returned to tending to a patient. "I understand that you were a close friend to Private Thomas."

Seamus could only nod, a sob choking his lungs. He had already cried to much that night to let any more tears fall; not that he would want to in front of the Major.

Snape said nothing, but handed him a small square of paper. It was stained with dried blood. A photograph, of Seamus with Dean, their arms over each other's shoulders, grinning faces from a few years ago. Long before this mess. A hand raised to cover his mouth, stifle the tearless gasps. _Not Dean._

"It was found in the pocket of his shirt," Snape explained, his voice lowered. Was that sympathy? Pity? Genuine concern?

Seamus held the photograph close to his chest as he trembled. His eyes met those of the Major's; they were surprisingly soft in comparison to the usual. He managed to find his voice. "What do you do when there's nothing but pain left inside of you?" he asked in a mumble. How could anyone ever move on from any of this?

Snape met his desperate gaze firmly, and Seamus had the faintest suspicion that he had asked himself the same question countless times before. "It's simple enough, really," he murmured. "You can end it all, or find someone to fill you with something else."

"Like what?" Seamus whispered hoarsely, though as Snape leaned in towards his face, he didn't find himself shying away. The man had a point; he felt so incredibly empty that he was suddenly desperate for feeling.

"Whatever it is you need," Snape replied, and two pairs of dry lips met for a split second, barely brushing against each other before pulling apart. Seamus nearly cringed at how awfully wrong it felt in the wake of Dean's death, but something inside him was yearning for more and he knew that Snape shared that same feeling.

Yet the other man seemed to be second-guessing his own actions; his eyes were a fraction wider than their usual narrow glare. He stepped back from the injured man's bedside, turning away to Seamus' dismay. He went to leave the tent, halting only a foot from the entrance flap. "Go home, Private. You still have a life to live."

* * *

 **By far the most bizarre pairing I've ever had to write for! I laughed so hard when I saw that Seamus x Snape was my prompt, but I think it managed to make an ounce of sense, two AUs later.**


	10. I Will Be Your Brother

**10\. I WILL BE YOUR BROTHER**

 _ **Tragedy/Hurt/Comfort, 1,214 words, Rated T**_

* * *

 ** _Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry (Challenges and Assignments)_**

 ** _Assignment #1: Muggle Arts (Task 1):_** _Write about facing a loss_

 ** _Chocolate Frog Cards Club: Sirius Black II (Bronze):_** _Write about someone with a large family_

 ** _Seasonal Challenges: Shay's Musical Challenge: Bandstand:_** _Write about caring for someone who lost a loved one; **Gryffindor Themed Prompts: Characters (Easy):** George Weasley; **Gryffindor Themed Prompts: Characters (Medium):** Angelina Johnson_

* * *

They had held hands as the sun set over the lake. It was the calm before a storm they couldn't joke about.

"George," Fred spoke slowly, his gaze focused on the water, where the vivid oranges and pinks danced on the lazy waves. It looked almost like flames. "No matter what happens here tonight-" he swallowed nervously, each word a bit shakier than the one before, "no matter who we _lose_ , I will always be your brother."

George glanced over at him, a shiver crawling up his spine as he noted how the freckles on his brother's face looked like ashes in the sun's last light. He squeezed Fred's hand to comfort him, to comfort _himself._

"And I will _always_ be here for you, you know," Fred continued, his voice nearly cracking as he met his twin's gaze. "Even if this fight leaves us with nothing but each other and tears and pain, I'll always be here."

He squeezed their hands once more.

"We won't let it come to that, then," George stated decisively, his voice hoarse despite the confidence in his tone. "We'll stick together. Keep everyone we can safe. We've got good fighters on our side... we've got each other. And some no-nosed git is not going to be the end of us."

Fred smiled as George finished, thin lips creating dimples in his cheeks as they stretched out, and it lit a warmth in George that he could still bring about happiness while tensions were running so high.

"Thanks, Georgie," his brother responded simply, and with one final squeeze they let their hands fall apart.

 **-o-O-o-**

" _Damn_ it!" George shouted, his voice cracking horribly as he sent the pebble straight into the pond with a splash. It was followed by a fistful of others, flung through the water's surface with as much force as he could muster. "Merlin, fucking _why_?!"

He leaned over to pick up more rocks to throw, and ended up keeling over, his knees shaking as emotion wracked his body. He let his palms press into the sharp edges of the stones, a choked-up sob forcing his weight downwards.

It was never going to leave him, was it? That aching _emptiness_ in his chest, the guilt, the constant reminders everywhere that it was real. It wasn't a nightmare, it wasn't a prank.

He hated how his mother still slipped up, calling Fred down for breakfast, telling Fred to fix his hair when it was George in front of her. He hated how he couldn't sleep in his own bedroom anymore, because it wasn't just his bedroom, was it? He hated how his father couldn't look him in the eye. He hated how he had taken down all the mirrors in the house, because he couldn't look _himself_ in the eye. He hated how laughing and joking felt like a betrayal. He hated the world without Fred.

A tear slipped from his face to the pebbles below him. His forearms shook and collapsed beneath him, and he had to take a moment to find the will to sit up again and pull his knees to his chest.

Just in time for a visitor.

"Molly told me I might find you out here," the voice spoke, quiet and gentle and strained.

He didn't bother looking up as someone sat down beside him. He knew who it was. The voice was one he once would have made countless jokes to, laughing and grinning in each other's company. The peripherals of his vision caught her sweeping her tightly braided hair over her shoulder. Her hand was still scarred from where a nasty curse had brushed it.

"So I thought you might like some company," Angelina continued. It was oddly surreal to hear her voice so soft.

George was at a loss of how to reply. Whether to reply at all. He hadn't spoken properly to anyone in weeks. "You didn't have to come out here," he mumbled, raising a hand to pinch his eyes closed.

"I _wanted_ to," she argued, turning her head to fully acknowledge him. "George, you - your hand is bleeding."

Caught off guard by the statement, his head rose and eyes opened to glance at his hand. The palm was grazed and scratched from being pressed into the stones, trickles of blood leaking from the worst cuts. He raised his other hand to find similar results. He hadn't even noticed the pain until then. "Oh."

Angelina studied his bland expression with sympathy. "George, you're not okay."

"I'm not," he agreed quietly, forcing down a sob that threatened to escape.

"I'm not going to force you to talk," she explained, and he felt intimidated by how steady her voice was compared to his own, "even though I think you really should. But distancing yourself from everyone isn't going to help you... or them. We _all_ lost Fred that night."

And that was it. The name was all it took to set him off, and he hated so furiously how pathetic he felt because of it. He felt his whole body shake with the force of each sob, tears running freely down his freckled cheeks as his trembling, bloody hands knotted themselves into his fiery hair. He felt a warmth against his back as arms wrapped themselves around him. Angelina was whispering gently to him, but what exactly she said he had no idea because Fred _Fred FRED_ was occupying so much of his mind and consuming his heart.

He didn't know how long he was sitting there, slowly rocking himself as Angelina coaxed his body to relax. His hands fell from his hair at long last, a while after he had completely drained himself of tears. He felt completely exhausted and spent, but considerably better than he had prior to his friend's arrival.

"Thank you," he mumbled, and felt her move from behind him to his side once again, her soft smile and pained, watery eyes more comfort to him than he had felt in a long time. "And - I - um... I'm sorry, for pushing you and everyone aw-"

"Don't you dare apologise, George Weasley," she interrupted him, smile still present despite her fierce tone. "Like I said, we all lost Fred. But you more than anyone, and it'll take time for that loss to heal. Maybe it never will, and that's okay. But you can be happy, even though he's gone. And as long as you don't give up, as long as I get to see you smile again one day, I'll wait forever."

And George didn't smile. Not yet. But he hoped his appreciation for Angelina showed in the grateful nod he gave her and the squeeze he gave her hand.

"Let's go patch up your hands," she said, smiling in return, and gave his hand a squeeze back.

And in the back of his mind, he heard it; a familiar voice that brought the smallest blossom of warmth to his empty chest.

 _"I will always be your brother. And I will always be here for you."_


	11. Pool Noodle Party

**11\. POOL NOODLE PARTY**

 _ **Friendship/Romance, 1,856 words, Rated K**_

* * *

 ** _Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry (Challenges & Assignments)_**

 ** _Assignment #2: Travel & Tourism Task One: _**_Write about characters visiting a swimming pool or spa_

 _ **Chocolate Frog Cards Club: Alberic Grunnion (Silver):**_ _Incorporate a prank or prankster into your story_

 ** _Seasonal Challenges: Days of the Year: Best Friends Day:_** _Write about best friends; **Summer Prompts:** (word) Vacation; **Flowers: Aster:** (word) Attractive; **Fire Element: Leo:** (pairing) James/Lily; **Shay's Musical Challenge:**_ _ **Guys and Dolls:** Write about someone going out of their home country; **Gryffindor** **Themed Prompts: Characters (Easy):**_ _James Potter; **Gryffindor Themed Prompts: Characters (Medium):** Peter Pettigrew_

* * *

 _Hey James, I'll be waiting by the pool for you today. Maybe we could spend the day together, just the two of us? I miss having alone time with my dorky four-eyes ;) -Lily_

James smiled thoughtfully as he leaned against a railing overlooking the pool. It had come as a surprise to find a note from Lily delivered to his hotel room by staff that morning; mainly because it hadn't arrived by owl. Then again, that was his girlfriend being sensible while they were staying at a Muggle resort.

The Marauders and co. had been saving up for this vacation for months now. It felt like their biggest adventure in a long time, to leave Great Britain and stay abroad for two weeks during the summer. They had all chipped in as much money as they could, and even though James had put forward one of the larger donations, he didn't mind. He was having the time of his life, enjoying the great weather that could only come from a foreign country's sky, and listening to his friends laughing and joking; not to mention, Lily speaking French to the locals had to be one of the sexiest sounds he'd ever heard.

" _Prongs!_ " he heard vaguely from somewhere below him, and had just decided to zone in and peer over the railing when something long, hard and soaked with water smacked him right in the face.

James scowled, hastily wiping his glasses - which had nearly been knocked off of his face altogether by the pool noodle - to glare down at Remus and Peter, who were waving up at him with cheesy grins on their faces. He couldn't hold his glare for long, a laugh escaping him at their expressions. It was especially heartwarming to see Remus so cheery, who had been so hesitant to go at all, despite their dates carefully picked and checked. He felt uncomfortable showing off more skin than he had to, despite his friends' words of comfort. When Sirius had bought him a long-sleeved wetsuit, he'd been - well - over the moon.

"Well, are you gonna join us or not?" Peter called up to him teasingly, and let out a whoop as James threw the pool noodle back down into the water, right in front of his face.

Lily's note temporarily forgotten, he tossed his glasses into a cubby hole shelving unit behind him and hopped the railing, hugging his knees as he fell with a warning screech of, " _CANNON BALL!_ "

Remus and Peter dived out of the way, grinning like madmen. James hit the water with a splash and quickly surfaced, gasping at the sudden change in temperature. " _Merlin,_ the water is _cold!_ "

"You'll warm up pretty quickly," Peter assured him, though was barely heard over Sirius' loud voice.

"Aw, don't be a wuss, Jamesie!"

James whipped around to narrow his eyes at the dark-haired figure. Sirius was sitting up in a lounge chair at the edge of the pool, grinning stupidly at him, his usually pasty chest an alarming shade of red that shone in the sun.

"Says the one who's dry!" James called back teasingly, before concern forced him to add in, "and badly sunburnt? Have you even put on sunscreen?"

"No, _mother,_ I do what I want," Sirius shot back, sticking out his tongue as James rolled his eyes. "And I want to tan."

Marlene snorted a laugh from where she was lying down on the chair next to Sirius', startling James, who had thought she was asleep. "Good luck with that," she said sarcastically, eyes fluttering open and head lifting for a second to glance at Sirius, before falling back into a wave of strawberry-blonde hair.

Sirius pouted, folding his arms. His retort, however, was silenced by a high-pitched screeching from the other side of the pool, "NO, DORCAS, I AM _NOT_ GETTING INTO THE WATER, AND THAT'S THAT!"

It was safe to say that heads were turned. Dorcas Meadowes was nearly choking on her laughter, bent so far backwards that her head was about to submerge into the pool water, her dark, tightly-braided hair floating on the surface. Mary Macdonald was standing at the pool's edge, hands on her hips and face red with either anger or sunburn, in stark contrast with her pale blonde bob.

Sirius must have found an incredible amount of humour in the usually quiet girl's outburst, because in no time at all he was laughing as hard as Dorcas, causing Marlene to grumble. Before James could playfully roll his eyes at all his friends' antics, he was smacked by another wet pool noodle.

"Hey!" he yelled, spinning around in the water, only to have said pool noodle thrust into his arms by Remus.

"Pool noodle duel," Peter announced with a stifled giggle, from where he was now perched on an inflatable crocodile, "begin!"

James blinked in surprise as Remus was quick to unleash his mad pool noodle duelling skills on him. Despite all the adventures James got up to with his friends, he had never actually pool noodle duelled someone, and was struggling to keep up with Remus' random and surprisingly powerful swings and blows. Just as he was getting into a rhythm - left sweep, block, left sweep, block, right sweep, block, block - Remus disappeared below the water's surface.

"What?" James spoke aloud, and before he could glance in questioning to Peter, there was a sharp tug on his leg and he was pulled under.

The two boys quickly surfaced, James coughing and spluttering. "Not fair!" he accused Remus once he had his breath back, pointing a finger at the smug teen. "That's cheating!"

"We never specified the rules," Remus replied with a shrug and a smile.

James made a grab for his pool noodle. "Then I haven't lost yet-"

And with one powerful smack, Remus used his own pool noodle to send James' flying, where it landed with a glorius splash right on top of both Sirius and Marlene.

Sirius sat up in a flash, dark hair dripping with water and face twisted into a scowl as he pinpointed the guilty. "MOONY!"

Remus scratched the back of his head sheepishly. "Sirius, ah-"

"YOU BETTER START SWIMMING!"

With his dramatic yelling over, Sirius made a graceful dive straight into the pool. Remus' eyes widened as he realised how _serious_ \- ha ha... - Sirius really was, and began to rapidly doggy paddle towards the pool's edge.

James snorted a laugh as Sirius knocked over Peter's float in his swim past, before making his way over to the edge of the pool where the noodle had been hit. Marlene was still lying down, eyes closed, despite being covered in a decent amount of water - until she muttered a spell and subtly waved her wand at her side, drying herself instantly.

"Careful Marlene, _Muggles,_ " James teased her, whispering the last part. In fairness, she had been pretty careful; and she seemed to agree as she proceeded to ignore him, chest rising and falling slowly as though she were asleep.

James rolled his eyes and leaned down to retrieve the pool noodle at the same time as another, daintier pair of hands did. His hazel eyes darted up to meet bright green ones, almost instantly causing his cheeks to flush and butterflies to awaken in his stomach. The two straightened up, and James couldn't help but admire his girlfriend for a moment, despite the awkward situation of holding a pool noodle with her.

Lily Evans blinked at him thoughtfully, her pale, lightly freckled face framed by waves of auburn hair. Her lips curved upwards into a small smile. There would never be a day that James Potter didn't find her attractive. "You got my message?" she asked, her sweet voice a sound he would never tire of hearing.

James nodded, smiling back at her, though he was sure he looked goofy in comparison. The young couple stood awkwardly, Lily releasing her grip on the noodle. Remus slid past them, giggling with laughter, Sirius hot on his heels and continuing to yell exaggerated threats. James and Lily shared a small laugh.

"I don't think we'll be getting much alone time around here," James admitted, glancing around at his friends with a warm smile. Dorcas had now convinced Mary to sit at the edge of the water and stick her feet in, while Peter paddled over to them, back on the crocodile. Remus was somehow chasing Sirius now, having acquired a weapon - another pool noodle, of course. Marlene might have actually fallen asleep at this point; it was hard to tell.

Lily reached out a hand and smoothed down his messy hair affectionately, her smile growing as it sprung back into place the second her hand left. "Maybe that's okay, though," she said thoughtfully, "because I can still do this."

"Do what?" James couldn't help but ask, his gaze returning to focus completely on hers.

She beamed at him. "Close your eyes," came a soft whisper as she leaned towards him.

He did so, heart fluttering as he tilted his head ever so slightly, blind to her position - and in an instant he was shoved right back into the pool, flailing limbs creating an impressive splash. He surfaced, spitting out water as he raised an eyebrow at his girlfriend. She was grinning even wider down at him now, enjoying the view of him once again being drenched from head to toe.

"Lily, babe?" he spoke up almost quietly, a competitive nature firing up as he slowly made his way towards her.

"Yes, _deer_ _?_ " she shot back in the same, overly-sweet tone.

"Oh no, puns won't save you now," James replied, a smirk forming as he reached the pool's edge. Moving with haste, he hoisted himself athletically onto the surrounding smooth concrete, as Lily took off, laughing.

James took chase, pushing his way through lounge chairs and hurdling abandoned floaties as he tailed his girlfriend. He sped past Sirius and Remus, who were now engaging in a pool noodle duel out-of-water - Merlin help Sirius; Dorcas, Mary and Peter, who were all in hysterics - likely over one of Peter's corny jokes; Marlene again, still snoozing, meaning he had lapped the pool by the time Lily was within reach, her hair gleaming in the sunlight as she ran. He managed to grab a hold of her wrist, spinning her around to face him. She blinked innocently at him, a small, pursed smile her silent plead. He simply grinned before throwing them both off balance - and into the water.

"Revenge is sweet," he teased, once their heads were above water once more, and poked her lightly on the nose. He was confused for a moment as to why she was more interested in grabbing a nearby pool noodle, until her gaze met his once again and she replied.

"So is this."

And she brought the pool noodle around his shoulders to finally pull him in for that kiss.

* * *

 **Finally some fluff after all that angst! (Take a shot every time a pool noodle is mentioned)**


	12. It's a Hard Knock Life

**12\. It's a Hard Knock Life**

Family/Angst, 2,356 words, Rated T

* * *

"Everyone, we have a new person joining our group today."

The child was glued to his mother's side as he entered the bright room, encouraged by her hand gently pushing between his shoulder blades. Wide, nervous green eyes darted from one person to another, taking in the room and the people seated within it with caution.

"Care to introduce yourself?"

It was the same voice, steady but kind. The child was quick to locate the speaker, an eccentric-looking man, who appeared to be in his mid-thirties. He had ruffled hair, an unusual shade somewhere between blond and ginger. He wore glasses with thick frames that seemed too large for his narrow face, which was adorned with various scars and freckles. His clothing was most peculiar; a yellow checkered button-up shirt topped with a red bowtie, and dark overalls to finish the look.

"My name's Remus," the child introduced himself. He felt uncomfortable with meeting any of the several gazes that rested upon him, and so his eyes wandered around the spacious room. It was well-lit, with skylights in the panelled ceiling. The walls were a warm cream, though completely bare. The only furniture were the bean bags and pillows the group was seated on, and a small, round table at the centre, with a book, several leaflets and a plate of cookies set upon it. "I'm ten years old."

"Remus, you say?" one of the group members spoke up, peering at him curiously. His voice was that bit louder than the other man's, and echoed around the room. He chuckled for a moment, causing Remus to shuffle his feet awkwardly. "Did you know that in some Muggle stories, Remus was a boy raised by wolves?" He chuckled again, almost pitifully. "How fitting. Welcome to our werewolf support group, kiddo."

The first speaker nodded thoughtfully, closing his eyes for a moment. "Yes, welcome, Remus." He opened his eyes once again, offering the boy a smile. "My name is August, and I'm the group leader here." He stretched out an arm, gesturing to an empty bean bag. "Have a seat; don't be shy."

Remus glanced up at his mother for assurance. Hope smiled, giving his shoulder a comforting squeeze before leading him over to the beanbag. She took a single pillow beside him, and he didn't want to insist otherwise in front of these strangers.

"I'm Chris," the chuckler introduced himself, nodding to him.

The rest of the group began to chime in with their own names, and Remus only felt more out of place as he attempted to acknowledge each person. There were about eight people in total, excluding himself and his mother. They were all in their twenties or older, save for one girl, Leah, who appeared to be in her teens. She spoke very quietly, and stared at her feet most of the time. They were all marked with scratches and fresh scars, most of the group members very introverted and twitchy. Remus felt his spirits lower even further. Was this what he would be reduced to in ten years' time? Five years? Two?

 _Remus Lupin, thirteen years old, couldn't look himself in the mirror. There was one in the Gryffindor dorms, one he couldn't take down like he did the ones at home in his room. It wasn't his mirror. And he could always just ask the other boys if they would mind taking it down, but how petty would that sound? How_ suspicious _would that sound?_

 _So he stayed quiet, as he did about most things now._

 _Until one morning, as he made his way back to his bed after being checked over in the hospital wing. It had been a rough night; one of his worst yet. His body still ached from the transformation, and his limbs felt as though they were made of lead. When he caught a glance of himself in the mirror, he thought he looked worse than he felt._

 _And then he felt weak at the knees, because his face was covered in fresh cuts, and his cheek had been ripped open at some point during the night, the wound only just closed by the nurse. He had bags under his eyes; his hair was a mess; he had lost so much weight recently and under the hospital gown he knew there were more scars, fresh ones, old ones, worse ones._

 _He started to cry, unable to hold it back, still fighting off that violent urge to break the mirror into a thousand pieces and the anger at himself for acting so pathetic. He cried even as a pair of arms wrapped around him from behind, steadying him, comforting him, until he was too tired to cry anymore._

 _But not even his friends could fix his body._

"Yes, I agree, Frasier. That's a good point," August was saying, nodding his head, expression grim despite the small praise.

"Everything feels so temporary," a young woman added miserably. She was picking at her nails as she spoke; they were painted a pretty blue-green. "I'm so sick of keeping secrets. I have to keep moving house, changing jobs, leaving friends..."

August nodded solemnly. He turned to Remus, who felt slightly nervous as he waited for, undoubtedly, an oncoming question. "What about you, Remus? Do you have many friends?"

The boy glanced at his mother, who in that moment wouldn't meet his gaze. His parents, despite their love and support for him, discouraged his friendships with others. Maybe it was better to be lonely than to be lonely and missing someone, because any friends he made were bound to leave. Ever before he had to live a life with lycanthropy, he had had friends. But five-year-olds aren't the best secret-keepers, and it didn't take long for those friends to vanish from his life.

 _"Hi Ciara!" five-year-old Remus Lupin greeted his best friend excitedly, rocking on his heels as he awaited her reply. "What are we going to play today? I only have a few hours before Dad says he'll take me home."_

 _Ciara turned to him, her expression flat and arms folded. "You're a werewolf."_

 _Remus blinked at her, his heart dropping like a stone. He decided to play it off. "N-no, what are you talking about?"_

 _Ciara frowned and narrowed her eyes. "I_ know, _Remus. Don't lie."_

 _He took a step back, startled. Ciara had blunt opinions, like most small kids, but had never turned on him with her moody accusations. He instinctively glanced over his shoulder to his father, but Lyall was sitting on a bench reading a Muggle newspaper, just out of earshot of what was happening._

 _Remus turned back to Ciara, face paling rapidly as panic began to rise in his chest. "Well - um - it doesn't really matter, right? I'm still me, look!" He gestured to the entirety of his small body vigorously, forcing a smile._

 _Ciara didn't return it._

 _"I can't play with you anymore, Remus."_

 _His face fell. "Why not?"_

 _"Mommy and Daddy said that you're dangerous. That I should play with Joyce and Thomas instead."_

 _"No! I - I'm..."_

 _"Goodbye, Remus."_

"No, not really," ten-year-old Remus replied quietly, gaze dropping to his hands. August nodded knowingly.

"That's okay. It's hard for people like us to make friends," Chris empathised with the boy. A collective silence fell over the group.

"But you can always make friends here, with us." August picked up the conversation again hastily, smiling at Remus. He turned to a more elderly woman, who appeared to be the oldest of the group. "Say Kathleen, have you made much progress with your recipes?"

Kathleen smiled appreciatively at the man, her greying curls bouncing as she nodded. "Have you tried the cookies?" she asked hoarsely, leaning in to pick up the plate on the table and lift it up. "Remus, would you like to try one?"

Thinking it rude to refuse, the boy gingerly grabbed one and nibbled on it curiously as Kathleen rattled off the ingredients.

"There's actually a small amount of aconite in there too!" she added cheerfully. "It's also known as wolf's bane, highly poisonous. I did add some charcoal as well, which should help you stomach it-"

Remus couldn't help but spit out the tiny bite he had taken, in reaction to both the words 'highly poisonous' and the horrendous taste. Hope was on her feet at the same time as Leah, both making their way towards him quickly. Hope patted him on the back worriedly, muttering something about crazy women and poisoned food, while Leah produced a chocolate bar from her jacket.

"Here," she mumbled blankly, offering it to him. "It'll take away the taste. You're not the first to cough up Kathleen's baking."

Remus nodded his gratitude, and as his mother and the teen returned to their seats, he mouthed a guilty "thank you" to Kathleen, who suddenly appeared quite downcast. He was thankful she had offered him anything, being frank.

 _Five-year-old Remus, lonely and friendless, sat quiet in the waiting room of St Mungo's as he listened to his parents desperately argue their case to a flustered Healer._

 _"Listen, please, there's got to be something you can do for him,_ anything! _" Hope was pleading, her voice muffled behind closed doors._

 _"Mr and Mrs Lupin, I'm afraid his condition is incurable. We can't treat him here."_

 _There was a slamming of a fist on a desk. "Damn it! He's_ five years old, _you have to have something you can give him. Take the edge off of the pain during his transformations, calm his wolf form,_ something?! _" Lyall shouted, his temper lost._

 _The Healer was quick to lose her own cool in response. "I'm telling you, we won't treat his kind here!" she yelled, and her regret was evident in the sudden silence that followed. Then mumbling. The door opened, and his parents walked out. It closed behind them._

 _Remus pretended that he hadn't heard the conversation, aware that his parents were upset. He watched instead as a different Healer presented a lollipop to the boy sitting on the other side of the room, "you've been so good, waiting by yourself all that time!"_

 _"Let's go, Remus," Hope said, an edge to her tone. Her face looked tired._

 _"Why does he get a lollipop?" Remus asked, before he realised that he had spoken aloud. He glanced warily to his parents. "Why not me?"_

 _Neither of them responded. Lyall took his hand in his and gently stood him up out of his chair and walked him towards the exit door._

 _"Why don't I get a lollipop?" Remus pressed, stressing now, because his parents were still tense and unhappy - was it his fault? Why didn't he get a lollipop?_

 _"Let's_ go, _Remus," Hope repeated with more force. When they were leaving the building it clicked. And Remus felt a now familiar sadness washing over him._

 _"I'm sorry that I'm not the son you wanted," he whispered. They didn't hear him over the city traffic._

"And decent jobs are so hard to come by," another man was lamenting. "I can hardly earn a living. Thank Merlin for my sister's support. I'd be homeless for sure without her."

"Maybe we could organise a fundraiser?" August suggested, and the sudden shine in his eyes took Remus off guard. These people were so desperate, yet so hopeful - it was upsetting to sit through.

"Don't be ridiculous," painted-nails lady said scornfully. "Nobody would donate money to _werewolves._ "

And just like that, the glimmer of hope was gone. Several people slumped lower into their bean bags.

 _Thirty-year-old Remus Lupin was desperate for a job. He looked worse than he'd ever been. He lived in a near-derelict cottage as far away from people as he could get. His robes were worn, his face grim and dirty and scarred-_

Remus pushed the thought forcefully from his mind, and bit into the chocolate bar.

"Next full moon is in two weeks," August piped up after a moment. "So we won't be meeting then, obviously. Can't risk staying too late."

"Oh, right!" someone else chimed in. "Thought I'd let you guys know - I tried taking a shi-" her eyes darted to Remus as she paused, "a _crap_ tonne of painkillers right as I felt the transformation coming on, and... it was useless. I was still destructive and it still hurt like a mother... a mother."

"Dang," Chris mumbled, "I was going to try that. Got my hands on some powerful Muggle tablets I was going to use."

Remus felt awful, sitting in his bean bag with his knees pulled to his chest. He couldn't bear listening to the group anymore. There were no solutions to their problems, to _his_ problems. Their conversations were just a constant reminder of how bad he had it, how bad it was going to get, how he would one day be just as desperate and beaten up and depressed.

"How do you stand it?" The question burst from his mouth before he could stop it. Even Hope looked surprised. "Knowing that there'll never be a cure, that we're all doomed to have the hardest lives ever? How do you live with yourselves?"

August, too, was caught off guard by the question, and busied himself with adjusting the way his glasses lay on the bridge of his nose while his muscles were still tense. Then he softened, as the group was turning to him for answers, and addressed Remus with the smallest of smiles. "Because we have to. We have no other options."

Remus stood up, and Hope copied his actions, maternal senses kicking into action. He grabbed a hold of her hand despite the onlookers, and left the room.

* * *

 _ **A/N:** New format! And more angst #noregrets_

* * *

 **HOGWARTS SCHOOL OF WITCHCRAFT AND WIZARDRY (CHALLENGES & ASSIGNMENTS)**

 **Assignment #2:** **Geography Task 12:** Write about someone/a group of people who is/are isolated

 **Chocolate Frog Cards Club:** **Firenze (Silver):** Write about someone who doesn't fit in

 **Dragon Breeding Club:** Angelica the Peruvian Vipertooth

 **Gobstones Club:** **Green Stone:** (theme) Regret; **Accuracy:** (au) Support Group; **Power:** (item) Book; **Technique:** (food) Cookies

 **Seasonal Challenges:** **Days of the Year: Moon Day:** Write about Remus Lupin; **Colour Prompts:** Blue-Green; **Birthstones: Onyx:** (dialogue) "I'm sorry that I'm not the son you wanted."; **Shay's Musical Challenge: Fun Home:** Write about discovering more about someone's past; **Gryffindor Themed Prompts: Characters (Easy):** Remus Lupin

 **Insane House Challenge:** **593:** (creature) Werewolf

 **Writing Club:** **Disney Challenge: Themes: Isolation:** Write about someone feeling isolated; **Amber's Attic: Tattoos: Butterfly:** Write about a transformation; **Count Your Buttons:** (object) Lollipop, (word) Awkward; **Lyric Alley:** I've learned to be ashamed of all my scars; **Ami's Audo Admirations: Top 40 Singles:** Write a fic where the main theme is not about romance; **Bex's Bazaar: Dumbo:** Write about someone being shunned for being different

 **CAMP POTTER**

 **Ice-Cream Making Station:** **Flavours: Vanilla:** (character) Remus Lupin


	13. Take Me Home

**13\. Take Me Home**

Family/Romance, 3,010 words, Rated K

* * *

 _"Are you still watering those dead plants?"_

 _Lily Luna blinked, staring at the three small pots in her windowsill. The flowers 'growing' in them were a bit crispy and off-colour, sure, but..._

 _"Dead?" she echoed, glancing up at her mother. She turned back to the plants, face falling. "But how - I thought I was taking good care of them!"_

 _Ginny smiled, ruffling her daughter's hair. "Hey, it's okay. We'll get you some new ones."_

Lily smiled fondly at the memory as she straightened up, admiring the work she'd gotten done for the day. It was almost amusing, how ten years ago she couldn't keep a primrose alive. To look at herself now, surrounded by a rainbow of the most beautiful blooms, it would take many by surprise to say she was the same person.

Her soft brown eyes followed a pale butterfly as she slid off her gardening gloves; though the labour was that bit more intense, she found it so much more rewarding to do all her gardening by hand. It was a hobby and a job she took pleasure in doing wandless; it felt much more personal and as gardeners generally believed, more successful.

Lily had bought the small country cottage two years ago, after graduating school. She had her own savings to put forward into her new lifestyle, but her family's fortune was extremely helpful in landing her her first house. It was small but cosy, and the large, bare plot had been transformed into what she only could have dreamed of as a child. Though her flowers were still young and hedges still short, she couldn't be happier.

She only hoped that her evening guests would feel the same.

Lily rushed inside to shower and change out of her muddy working clothes, before she could get too caught up admiring the garden. No sooner had she finished blow-drying her fiery red bob when the doorbell rang, and she hurried over to let in the first arrival.

He was tall as ever, a mischievous grin present on his face as usual. Platinum blond hair fell over his forehead in gentle curls, contrasting with the deep brown of his eyes. He winked at the youngest Potter as she rolled her eyes playfully, cheeks a tinge of pink under her countless freckles.

"Lorcan," she greeted her boyfriend teasingly.

"Lily," he shot back in the same tone, smirking, before pulling her in for a hug. "Long time no see."

She couldn't help but smile as she melted into his embrace. "We met up _two days ago._ "

Lorcan pretended to frown in deep thought. "Really? It feels like it's been forever," he replied with a grin as they broke apart at last, his eyes slipping down her body. "New dress?"

"Yes," Lily responded, almost proud that he had noticed. She did a twirl for him, the flowers on its skirt blending into a rainbow of colour.

"It suits you," he commented, a more genuine smile forming. It was gone as quick as it came, the grin returning with a humorous remark. "Flowers like your name, flowers like your life."

"You two are unbearable."

Lily rolled her eyes, hands on her hips as her two older brothers walked in unannounced. James, the source of the teasing comment, punched Lorcan lightly on the shoulder as his way of greeting, while Albus made a face at the younger couple.

"Says the one getting married next month," she shot back sassily, before stepping in to give him a hug (which was considerably briefer than the one with her lover). "Good to see you again."

"Still into your gardening, I see," Albus said with a small smile as she hugged him next, peering through a back window.

"When won't I be?" she replied, her lips curving upwards in return.

"I'll get the barbeque set up," James offered, "though Louis is definitely cooking tonight. Have you ever tried his kebabs? _Divine,_ I'm telling you."

As he disappeared outside, Albus tailing him, the fireplace roared to life and the shortest, curliest-haired of the Weasley-Potter clan (featuring two Scamanders, a Lupin and a Malfoy) emerged from the flames, wheezing as she brushed off her trousers.

"Merlin, Lils, clean your fireplace!" Roxanne cried out, once she had her breath back. The dark-skinned girl shook out her lion's mane, ashes falling to the floor like snowflakes.

Lily's eyebrows knitted together in confusion as she stepped forward to aid the young woman. "Well, in my defense, I was not expecting anyone to Floo in."

Roxanne rolled her eyes as she straightened up, before gesturing to the fireplace. "You should have known a certain idiot is still too chicken to Apparate."

Right on time, the fire roared back to life once more, crackling as another figure stepped out, sending a new wave of ashes to the floor, which Lily frowned at.

"I am _not_ chick-" Fred was cut off by a brief coughing fit, during which he managed to get a glance at the state of his clothes. Once he finished wheezing, he gave the youngest Potter a stare that was both surprised and disappointed. "Lily, your fireplace - sweet Merlin!"

Roxanne rolled her eyes again, though somewhat affectionately, before turning to the host. "We're glad to be here, Lils," she said, nodding gratefully, and giving her cousin a quick hug, before stepping to shake Lorcan's hand. Her face scrunched up slightly as she examined him. "And the famous boyfriend. I don't think we've properly met before, but I trust Lily's taste in men better than my own, so hopefully I'm not going to have to hex you this eve-"

Fred jumped forward hastily, after carefully dusting off his sweater. "I'm Fred," he introduced himself, clumsily steadying himself after the quick movement. "And this is my sister, Roxy - don't mind her, she's all bark."

"I'll show you bark-"

It wasn't long before most of the expected guests had arrived. Lily was grateful for the spacious back yard she had, as she lost track of how many people had entered her home. It had been a couple years since the extended family and close friends had come together like this, and she had forgotten, almost, exactly how many heads that was.

Fred and James were drooling over the barbeque as Louis flipped the burgers, attempting to give the oldest Potter tips on the best way to get the full barbeque flavour into the meat. Louis had always had an interest in food and cooking, and it had warmed Lily's heart to see him realise his dream and pursue a career in that area. He had been one of her biggest supporters when she had made it known to her family that she was going to become a full-time gardener, both in her own garden and others'.

Albus and Scorpius were sitting together on the garden swing, both laughing hysterically - no doubt at one of their dorky jokes. The two had been close friends since the moment they met - and both had been massive nerds even longer. They probably met up more often than anyone else in the garden that evening, and evidently were still happy out to keep the socialising with others to a minimum.

Roxanne had cornered Lorcan once again to pick up where she had left off in the cottage. Lily chuckled to herself as her boyfriend raised his hands in some form of nonverbal surrender, the much smaller woman managing to intimidate him with her fierce personality. Nearby, his identical twin Lysander was chatting amiably with Molly, the two goody-two-shoes of the family hitting it off well, as expected.

Lily, Hugo and Lucy were all standing in the centre gazebo under the warm glow of a string of fairy lights. It was refreshing to be able to catch up with her friends like this, surrounded by chatter and laughter and good vibes.

"Your garden is _wild_ , Lily Luna," Dominique complimented the girl as she passed through the gazebo, adjusting her hair. Though naturally ginger, it was dyed a new colour every time Lily saw her, and was now a very intense scarlet and pulled into a loose bun. Her various piercings gleamed in the late evening glow. "It's like some sort of Garden of Eden on Earth."

"Thank you," Lily replied, beaming with pride at the compliment.

"Garden of Eden?" Lucy echoed, raising an eyebrow at the unfamiliar term as Dominique continued on towards Roxanne and Lorcan.

Hugo might as well have rubbed his hands together with utter glee; the opportunity had arised for him to share his extensive knowledge on every subject under the sun. Lily smiled to herself because there was something slightly off about seeing the young man without a book in hand. "The Garden of Eden is a religious Muggle story, based on the belief that a single God created humanity, perfect and innocent. The story begins when he creates the first man and woman, named Adam and Eve-"

"Yeah okay, skip to the part where I find out what the hell the Garden of Eden actually is."

"Um..." Hugo paused, twisting his mouth as he considered how to shorten what Lily was sure could have been a mildly fascinating tale. "Well, it's essentially a really pretty garden."

"Thank you. I feel much more knowledgeable than I did prior to this educational converation," Lucy said poshly, and then giggled at Hugo's unimpressed expression.

Lily's features seemed to be carved into a permanent smile for the night. She couldn't be happier among her family, friends and flowers. Everyone was getting along, the smell from the barbeque was starting to spread and _sweet Merlin_ was it mouthwatering, and she had the chance to flaunt her years of work and catch up with everybody.

"It's a pity Ted and Vic couldn't make it," she admitted with a slight sigh, though it still warmed her heart to see all the cousins in one place again, so happy and relaxed.

"Dom said that they had to stay home because of their kids," Lucy explained, leaning on the railing of the gazebo. She grinned. "That's two too many children for me. I'll never have kids." She paused, looking thoughtful. "Though I do envy their relationship."

"You'll get there someday, Luce," Lily assured her, smiling as she bumped her cousin with her elbow. "There's a whole lot of fish in the sea. Your ideal partner is out there."

"Speaking of relationships," Hugo piped up, "it's a shame Rose and Scorpius never got together."

Both Lily and Lucy sighed in agreement.

"If they had only given it a shot, they could've been a couple years ago," Lily murmured, and Lucy nodded vigorously.

"They have very different personalities, but they would have complimented each other so well," the blonde concluded.

A distant _crack_ brought Lily's attention to her house once again, and the redhead hastily straightened up.

"I think that's her, actually," she noted, her smile widening, before she hurried to go get the door.

Rose Granger-Weasley was as stunning as Lily remembered. Despite her late arrival, her appearance didn't look rushed or messy. Her ginger hair fell in waves over her back, and she wore a vanilla-coloured off-the-shoulder dress. She smiled warmly as Lily opened the door for her, giving her younger cousin a tight hug.

"Lily!" she exclaimed, standing back to get a better look at the young woman. "I haven't seen you in _forever_ \- you look so grown-up!"

Lily giggled. "You look as beautiful as ever," she replied, grinning. "Dressed to impress?"

Rose shot her cousin a playfully scornful glance. "I don't dress like this to impress men. I dress like this because I want to."

"So there is a man, eh?" Lily pressed, grinning like a shark.

Rose narrowed her eyes at her, though the faintest of blushes rose on her cheeks. "Don't you even start. Teasing is your brother's job."

"Well then, let's go outside and say hi, shall we?"

Rose's arrival was met with a round of applause from her family and friends. Nobody had seen her in over a year. When she'd graduated, she went to further her studies abroad and apparently she now worked in mainland Europe full-time.

Lily found herself glancing to Scorpius as Lucy joined her side once again. The young man was sitting up straight, staring at the late arrival blankly, before Albus gave him a nudge with his elbow.

"So what's everybody been up to?" Rose asked curiously as Lily led her back to the gazebo, where Hugo was unfolding a few chairs. He glanced up at his sister and grinned, quick to straighten up and give her a brief embrace.

"Well, James is getting married this August," Lily mentioned, piquing Rose's interest. "Do you remember Evangeline Wood?"

Rose's eyes widened, "oh yes, I do! Wow, last I ever saw of her, they were huge rivals. She was Chaser for Hufflepuff, right?"

"Yup."

Lucy leaned over from where she was sitting. "Scorpius is thinking about working abroad, last I heard," she added. "Said he loves being here with his family, but it doesn't feel right for what he wants in life."

"Oh," was all Rose could respond with before Lily chimed in again, glancing knowingly at Lucy.

"I always thought you two would end up together," she commented thoughtfully.

"I wish," Rose sighed, and Lucy nearly fell out of her chair in surprise. "I think he's more interested in staying friends, though. We've been just friends for what, twelve years?"

"Please tell me you're joking," Hugo said. "He had the biggest crush on you when you were in school."

"Really?"

"Yes!" both Lily and Lucy confirmed, nodding vigorously.

"You should talk to him tonight, while you're here," Lucy added enthusiastically. "It's not too late."

"Maybe I will." Rose smiled fondly as she glanced in the Malfoy's direction. Albus had gotten the blond to his feet and was now attempting to pull him towards the gazebo.

"We'll give you two some privacy," Lily said, almost smugly. She followed Hugo and Lucy down the steps, and rolled her eyes as they both sat beneath the railing of the gazebo. "You sneaky gits," she mouthed at them, though quietly sat down beside them.

Albus had evidently just finished with Scorpius, as he was quick to join them, grinning.

"Hey Scorp," Rose greeted the blond casually, from above.

"Rose," he said in return, "l-long time no see."

"Yeah." She sounded almost apologetic. "I've been busy... work, you know how it is. How've you been? I heard you were thinking of working abroad?"

"I - um, yeah, I-I was," Scorpius responded, exhaling a long breath. "My parents could definitely afford to send me off, it's just..."

"Hard to tell what's right for you," Rose finished. They could hear the smile in her voice.

"Yeah," Scorpius agreed, a nervous laugh escaping him. A pause of silence followed.

"You know, I was just told the craziest thing." Rose picked up the conversation smoothly. "That you had a crush on me back in school."

There was some shuffling. "I - um," Scorpius' voice rose for a moment before he cleared his throat. "Yeah, I-I did."

"I had no idea," Rose responded quietly.

"Really?! It was, like, super obvious."

She laughed. "So I guess I was super oblivious."

Scorpius chuckled, before letting out a sigh. "Yeah, by the time we were in sixth year I kinda gave up."

A pause.

"Really?" Another pause. "Because - um - that's kind of when I started to have a thing for you."

The next pause was painful. Scorpius cleared his throat. "Bad, timing, eh?" he joked miserably.

"Yeah," Rose agreed, unusually quiet. "I'll be heading back to work in two weeks."

"Where do you work?" Scorpius asked, though there wasn't much interest in his voice.

"Holland, right now," she replied. "Though I like to travel around. It could be Germany in a year's time, or France."

"You know," Scorpius said, a smile returning to his tone, "I might have to reconsider my options if I'm going to find a job overseas. Holland does sound lovely."

"Really?" Rose sounded overjoyed at the thought.

"Yeah, really!" Scorpius replied, sounding more confident in himself now. "If it means I'll get to spend time with you."

"Aw, Scorpius," Rose responded, flattered.

Lily turned around and peered up into the gazebo, the other three eavesdroppers hasty to copy her actions. The two lovebirds in the gazebo were both blushing like mad. Scorpius ran a hand through his hair, biting his lip awkwardly. Rose smiled at him, before stepping closer, a pale hand reaching out to gently hold his face. She ran her thumb over his lips lightly, as he blinked at her.

"What are you doing?" he murmured, mustering up the courage to meet her confident gaze.

"Something I should have done a long time ago," she whispered, and with one smooth movement she connected their lips softly.

"YES!" Lily and Lucy screamed in unison, hugging each other as the garden broke out into a round of thunderous applause. Rose and Scorpius broke apart, caught off guard by their large audience, though they were both smiling widely.

Lorcan found his way over to Lily, who grinned at him as he brought her in for their own kiss. "It's about time, don't you agree?" he said with a smile, glancing back to the new couple. They were kissing once more, as the family cheered as though it was a wedding.

"I love you so much," Lily replied, throwing her arms around her boyfriend.

It was a good night.

* * *

 ** _A/N:_** _When you take it to the next step and write next gen as adults :0_

* * *

 **HOGWARTS SCHOOL OF WITCHCRAFT AND WIZARDRY (CHALLENGES & ASSIGNMENTS)**

 **Assignment #2:** **Geography Task 1:** Write about a beautiful garden

 **Chocolate Frog Cards Club:** **Rosemary Ames (Bronze):** Write about the Garden of Eden

 **Dragon Breedin** **g** **Club:** Angelica the Peruvian Vipertooth

 **Gobstones Club:** **Black Stone:** (theme) Reunion; **Accuracy:** (animal) Butterfly; **Power:** (au) Gardener; **Technique:** (word) Relax

 **Insane House Challenge:** **83:** (pairing) Rose/Scorpius

 **Seasonal Challenges:** **Days of the Year: Cousin's Day:** Write about cousins; **Summer Prompts:** (word) Gardening; **Colour Prompts:** Vanilla; **Birthstones:** **Moonstone:** (dialogue) "I don't dress like this to impress men. I dress like this because I want to."; **Flowers: Marigold:** (dialogue) "Are you still watering those dead plants?"; **Shay's Musical Challenge: Hello, Dolly!:** Write about finding love; **Gryffindor Themed Prompts: Characters (Easy):** Rose Granger-Weasley; **Gryffindor Themed Prompts: Other Prompts:** (colour) Scarlet

 **Writing Club:** **Disney Challenge: Characters: Bert:** Write about two people who have been friends for a long time; **Count Your Buttons:** (character) Lucy Weasley, (word) Freckles

 **CAMP POTTER**

 **Ice-Cream Making Station:** **Toppings: Chopped Nuts:** (character) Lily Luna Potter BONUS PROMPT


	14. Perfect

**14.** **Perfe** **ct**

Friendship/Romance, 2009 words, Rated K

* * *

All her life, Ginny Weasley had known exactly what she'd wanted.

At age six, she wanted to play Quidditch with her brothers, despite her parents' insistence that she was too young. At age ten, she wanted to go to Hogwarts, even though she had another year to wait. At age fourteen, she wanted to fight back - against the corrupt Ministry, against Umbridge, against Voldemort. At age eighteen, she wanted to play Quidditch professionally. She wanted to move past the trauma of a war. She wanted to travel the world; she wanted to experience something new and positive.

And all her life, she'd known what she needed to do to get what she wanted. Whether it was breaking into the family broom shed, joining a secret school club to learn how to fight, or trying out for the position of Chaser for the Holyhead Harpies. And now she felt slightly clueless.

Because at age twenty-two, she wasn't really sure what she wanted. Because she kind of wanted Luna Lovegood to look at her and see more than a close friend.

Perhaps it wouldn't be such a confusing situation if it wasn't _Luna._ But it was; it was Luna, her best friend of nearly ten years now; the young woman she'd been travelling the world with, the girl who still loved magical creatures, despite most of her beliefs shifting to the ones she could actually see.

In fact, Luna was actually the reason the pair were staying in Wales. Having pursued a career as a wizarding naturalist, Luna was frequently on the move, studying certain creatures and seeking out new ones. Ginny had been happy to join her, and Luna appreciated the company. They'd spent a lot of time together over the years, and had learned a lot about each other - and in Ginny's case, had come to _really_ like the other.

"Hello, Ginny," Luna greeted the redhead, as she returned to their hotel room. It was one of the fancier places they had stayed at during their travels. The room was quite spacious and bright, with walls the colour of sea foam and beds softer than anything they'd ever had in their own houses. The shower was one of the coolest things Ginny had ever seen, and she had plans to stuff the small, cherry-blossom scented bottles of body wash and shampoo into her suitcase before they checked out.

"Hi Luna," Ginny replied, giving the blonde a cheerful smile from where she sat cross-legged on her bed. "Any sightings this morning?"

"No," Luna responded in her usual sing-song tone, absent-mindedly fiddling with her gold and silver necklace. "I actually just walked around the gardens while I was waiting for you to wake up. They are really beautiful; we should visit them later today."

"Sounds like a plan," Ginny mused, her bright brown gaze shifting to admire the blue skies of a gorgeous summer morning. She was almost angry at herself, at how conscious she was becoming of her every move around Luna. It was different with anyone else she'd ever dated; Michael, Dean, even Harry; she was usually so upfront about her feelings.  
And it wasn't like she hadn't considered dating another girl. The young Weasley had known for a while that she was bisexual. She'd always kept her options open regarding her romantic relationships, though admittedly, had never actually been in one with someone of her own gender. So this was a first for her.

"You look distracted," Luna pointed out, observant as ever. The dirty blond took a seat beside Ginny, smoothing out her dress before taking up one of the redhead's hands. Ginny felt a familiar flutter in her chest at the contact. Luna smiled at her. "Wrackspurts messing with your head?" she joked.

Ginny allowed herself to laugh lightly. "Maybe they really are," she replied with a grin, giving Luna's hand a squeeze before slipping away to stand and stretch. "Hopefully they won't scare away any of these Dugbogs."

Luna hummed thoughtfully. "I would advise wearing your reinforced boots, because we're going to have to wade through marshland - and Dugbogs are quite fond of biting ankles."

"How lovely," Ginny commented sarcastically, and grinned as Luna replied.

"Not really. They're not strong enough to break your bones, but they could leave a nasty wound."

"Thanks for clearing that up, Luna."

 **-o-O-o-**

"I _cannot believe_ that it ripped through my boot."

Ginny scowled as she slid off the mangled remains of one of her leather boots, tossing it to the side. She cringed at the sight of her ankle; the boot had taken the worst of the attack but it was still scratched up and bloody from the swamp monster's razor teeth.

Luna smiled to herself as she listened to the redhead ranting ("I mean, seriously! Those boots are _expensive_!") and conjured a roll of bandaging without checking for Muggles.

She had seated the injured woman on one of the sleek wooden benches in the gardens of their hotel, out of the way of onlookers. The hedges, taller than she was and too thick to see through, were providing a wonderful private spot for the two witches as they returned from a couple hours of poking what looked like rotting wood and wading through murky water. They had indeed discovered a Dugbog - two, in fact, a nesting couple that did not take kindly to Ginny accidentally stepping on them.

"At least I managed to tag them with a ribbon," Luna said light-heartedly. She shot Ginny an optimistic smile.

The redhead couldn't help but smile back, however hard she tried not to. She sighed, slumping back into the bench as Luna began wrapping her foot.

"Yeah, I guess you did. You're planning on going back there, then?" she inquired, though she already knew the answer.

"Of course," Luna answered sweetly, her dreamy voice filled with enthusiasm. "They were _nesting_ , Ginny. At this time of year, their kids will be emerging from the eggs soon. Wouldn't that be wonderful to watch?"

Ginny smiled. "Maybe from a distance," she said, almost laughing at her own remark.

Luna finished with her foot and gently let it go, her light touch causing Ginny to blush again. She turned away, busying herself with combing her fingers through her hair.

"Thanks, Luna."

"You're welcome." The blond stood up, brushing off her knees. She offered her hand to Ginny, helping her to her feet. "Shall we walk?"

"I only have one shoe," Ginny pointed out, raising an eyebrow.

"You could take it off," Luna suggested, before slipping off her own boots. "Here, I'll go barefoot too; that way we'll match."

Ginny couldn't help but grin at her crazy girlfriend - _she's_ not _her_ _girlfriend_ \- her crazy friend. She took off her other boot and sock, tossing them beneath the bench.

The two began to walk, the folds of Luna's tangerine-coloured dress gently flowing in the breeze and her blonde hair bouncing with every step. Ginny found herself reaching to hold the young woman's hand before she realised what she was doing; as their fingers brushed, she flinched and froze, regret washing over her rapidly. Before she could backtrack, Luna shot her a smile and intertwined their fingers, swinging their hands together as they walked to the songs of birds.

The gardens were as luxurious and relaxing as their hotel room. Thick, pine green hedges squared off different square sections of plants; one filled with roses of deep reds and sunset oranges; one with thick-trunked palm trees and massive ferns; one with an old mossy fountain and blooming water lilies. They walked in silence, Ginny blushing heavily though smiling as she felt the warmth of Luna's palm and the cool, smooth cobblestone of the pathways beneath her bare feet. They could hear distant yelps and the excited screams of children playing in the swimming pool on the other side of the building, and could see young Muggle couples looking out over the Welsh landscape from their balconies. It was only as they strolled through an arch of ivy and jasmine and entered a section with a rainbow of wildflowers that Ginny felt completely compelled to speak her mind.

"Hey Luna," she began, unable to look at the blonde just yet but confident enough to steady her voice. "You know, I've had this sort of silly idea for a while..."

"Don't be afraid of your silly ideas," Luna chirped. "They're often the best ones. Let's sit, so I can do your hair."

Ginny smiled as Luna led her over to another bench, crossing her ankles and closing her eyes as she felt the soothing sensation of Luna beginning to brush out her hair with her fingers.

"It's just that - oh Merlin, I don't know-"

"Ooh, do you want a flower crown?"

Ginny's eyes opened momentarily. "Um, sure?" she answered reluctantly. "But Luna - I think... I think..." With a sharp intake of breath, she almost shouted it out fiercely, " _I think I'm in love with you!_ "

There was a short beat of silence that seemed to last an eternity. Ginny listened to her heart beat, wishing she knew what Luna's face looked like. Nevertheless, dainty fingers continued to work a thin braid from a strand of hair on the back of her head.

"So, yellow tulips for the flower crown," Luna suggested, the fingers pausing as she reached for her wand. Ginny slumped, almost miserable. It wasn't like Luna hadn't heard her; was it that awkward of a statement that she had elected to ignore it? "They'll be perfect for us. They represent being hopelessly in love."

Ginny sat straight up once again, her heart skipping a beat as she whipped around to stare at the quirky blonde, her fiery red hair flying around her. Luna smiled knowingly at her, conjuring the bright flower crown upon her head. Ginny blushed furiously, a small smile forming on her pale lips, which grew wider until she was grinning with no control over it.

Luna smiled back, reaching out to brush a strand of ginger hair behind the Weasley girl's ear. "I knew it wasn't really Wrackspurts messing with your brain," she hummed thoughtfully. "They're pests, but they wouldn't stick around for that long."

Ginny smiled through her confusion, basking in her moment of triumphant joy while it lasted. "So I take it - I mean, the tulips - that you feel the same way about me?"

"Of course," Luna replied cheerily, almost puzzled that the redhead would think otherwise. "Are we not girlfriends, now?"

Ginny felt her face heat up even more, if it was possible. At the same time, her heart warmed at the thought. _My girlfriend Luna_ sounded lovely in her head. "Yeah, I guess we are," she admitted, grinning almost stupidly. A thought crossed her mind. "So, can I - do you mind if I-"

"Kiss me?" Luna finished, smiling. She tucked her own hair out of the way as her new girlfriend nodded, flustered. "You may."

Ginny smiled, tomato red all over, and gently slid a hand up Luna's cheek, holding it with care. She leaned in, aware of how supremely awkward this felt, gently tilting her head one way and ensuring Luna's was not tilted the same way so that their noses wouldn't bump. Eventually, through half-lidded eyes, she felt the warm breath of her lover on her lips and connected them in one bold move. Maybe a little too bold, because Luna made a small noise of surprise as their lips brushed. Ginny was quick to take charge, as Luna was loving but ultimately clueless, and after a few moments of gentle kisses and light giggles, the two allowed space to fall between them, smiling sheepishly.

It may have been awkward, and messy, and unfamiliar and new, but it was joyful and tender and warm. It was perfect.

* * *

A/N: _Ginuna is lowkey one of my OTPs but Luna is so difficult to write ahhhh_

 _Also,_ _the confession was inspired by a short comic I'm sure a few of you have seen, so credit to the respective artist for that :)_

* * *

 **HOGWARTS SCHOOL OF WITCHCRAFT AND WIZARDRY (CHALLENGES & ASSIGNMENTS)**

 **Assignment #2:** **Geography Task 8:** Write about a luxurious place

 **Chocolate Frog Cards Club:** **Common Welsh Green (Gold):** Set your story in Wales

 **Dragon Breeding Club:** Angelica the Peruvian Vipertooth

 **Gobstones Club:** **Yellow** **Stone:** (theme) Joy; **Accuracy:** (action) Brushing hair; **Power:** (colour) Sea Foam; **Technique:** (item) Necklace

 **Insane House Challenge:** **543:** (plot point) Declaring your true love

 **Seasonal Challenges:** **Days of the Year: Gay Pride:** Write Slash/Femmeslash; **Summer Prompts:** (word) Relax; **Colour Prompts:** Tangerine; **Birthstones: Sardonyx:** (dialogue) "Don't be afraid of your silly ideas."; **Flowers: Peony:** (sexuality) Bisexual; **Gryffindor Themed Prompts: Characters (Easy):** Ginny Weasley

 **W** **riting Club:** **Showtime: Man Up:** (emotion) Joy; **Count Your Buttons:** (word) Luxurious; **Em's Emporium: Gabby:** Write femslash; **Angel's Arcade: Sonya Blade:** (character) Ginny Weasley, (word) fierce, (action) kissing; **Lo's Lowdown: Character Based Prompts: Penelope Garcia:** (character) Luna Lovegood


	15. All the Same

**15\. All the Same**

Romance/Drama, 2548 words, Rated K

* * *

Lyall Lupin didn't usually mind the forest. He was frequently venturing beneath the canopies of trees on his numerous expeditions; in fact, during the day and particularly during the hours of early morning, when the rising sun cast light into the otherwise shaded landscape, he became quite fond of wooded walks.

This particular forest, however, was quite off-putting. Though it was midday, the thick and dark leafy ceiling allowed very little sunlight to grace the mossy floor. The trees were thick and old and knarly, many of them diseased and blackened. The branches brushed his robes like protruding claws, and the still, unsettling silence allowed him to hear his own heart beating steadily.

Most of all, it was the knowledge of what lay hiding within the shadows that caused fear to crawl up his spine with icy fingers. Lyall had faced many over the years, but Boggarts were a frightening creature nonetheless. Anything that had the power to take on the form of your worst fear had too much power, in his opinion.

The young man gently ran a hand beneath his hat and through his mousy brown hair, aware of his gradually dampening forehead. His muscles were stiff with anticipation as he carefully picked a path across the forest floor, his other hand extended and gripping his wand readily.

The scream caught him off guard.

High-pitched and evidently fearful, Lyall hastily gathered himself after jumping what felt like a foot into the air, and made a sprint towards the source of the chilling sound.

He saw it before he saw her, towering and dark and evil, a giant man, features hidden under shadows, arms extended and lurching forward to grab its victim.

" _Riddikulus!_ " Lyall shouted, jumping in front of the screamer and straight into a fighting stance. The Boggart barely registered that someone new had interrupted it before it shrank rapidly, spinning into a blur until a harmless field mushroom was left behind, sprouting innocently from the ground. Lyall exhaled, relief flooding him, and steadied the hat upon his head.

"God, bless and thank you!"

He spun around, for a split second almost having forgotten who he was rescuing. A young woman, auburn hair falling upon her shoulders in frizzy waves, stared at him in awe. Her face had gone very pale from the encounter, but had lit up at the sight of her saviour, as had her pale green eyes. She was petite, but strikingly beautiful.

"You - you saved my _life_ , thank you so much!"

Lyall smiled sympathetically at her. "It was just a Boggart," he explained, nonchalant.

Her wide, round eyes stared blankly at him for a moment, before her feet were carrying her forward and she was grasping his free hand, shaking it vigorously. "I - I don't know how you scared him away, but thank the Lord above you did. I thought I was a goner for sure!"

Lyall gently pried his hand from hers, kindly opting to pat her shoulder in comfort. It was as he took in her odd clothing, very plain and office-like, that the realisation hit him that she was a Muggle. He smiled nonetheless, glad to be acknowledged as someone's hero, but made note not to mention Boggarts again.

"It was not a problem, my sweet lady," he assured her, his hand slipping down her back to gently turn her waist until they were facing the same direction. "Shall I accompany you home?"

She smiled cheerily at him, dimples forming in her round cheeks as colour slowly returned to them. "It would be much appreciated, Mr...?"

"Lyall Lupin," he responded, subtly waving his wand behind his back to transfer the field mushroom into the glasses case in the pocket of his robes. He shot the young woman a charming smile as they began to walk, his arm. still secure around her.

"Thank you, Lyall," she murmurmed, a faint but recognisable Welsh lilt to her voice, eyes glancing warily into the surrounding shadows.

"Oh, he won't be coming back anytime soon," Lyall assured her. "I never caught your name?"

"I never gave it," she responded with a fluttery laugh, and then beamed up at him. "It's Hope. _I'm_ Hope, rather. Hope Howell."

"Well, Miss Howell, could you point me in the direction of your residence?"

"Oh goodness, just call me Hope," she replied with a laugh. "I live on the edge of Cardiff, though I'm so lost at this point God knows where we're going."

The two hit it off pretty well, and it was no surprise that their encounter in the woods that day would not be their only meeting. Hope's parents were hugely grateful to Lyall for protecting their youngest daughter, and though he felt slightly guilty for having to keep it a secret that it was a mere Boggart he had fought off, he humbly accepted the praise.

He took Hope out for lunch that weekend, delighted to see her beaming face once more. She was an eccentric girl, he mused over their Muggle meals - sensitive and sweet, but imaginative and artistic. They made easy conversation, and despite Hope insisting on paying the bill even as Lyall argued, they had rapidly become fond of each other.

It didn't take long at all before it was undeniable that the pair was in love. Hope's two older sisters, already married and either raising or expecting children, knew the eager look Hope gave Lyall all too well. Only five weeks after their initial meeting, as Hope was about ready to head out and meet with the charismatic man for a stroll in the park, they prompted her to ask him out.

And she did. Lyall was overjoyed, and they hugged each other tightly, and held hands as they walked, hearts warm and spirits high. They shared their first kiss together beneath the droopy branches of a weeping willow down by the river, and it was messy and awkward but so _perfect_. They were the happiest people in the world, picking flowers to put in each other's hair, and joking and laughing and smiling non-stop.

Lyall loved Hope with all his heart already, but he had to keep swallowing his guilty thoughts - an act that became more and more difficult as time passed. He still had his own job that he had to attend to, and with every Boggart he encountered the guilt only grew. He was scared, and he knew it; his relationship with Hope had been founded upon him rescuing her from the Boggart, and if she became aware that he had lied to her and that the situation hadn't been quite as dangerous as she thought, would she despise him? Would he lose her trust, or her love altogether?

A mere few weeks into their official relationship as lovers, the mental conflict was unbearable. He knew well that healthy relationships were built on truth and being open with one another. He had to tell her, even though it meant opening her eyes to the entirety of the wizarding world. He didn't want to practice his memory charms that day, even though he knew that he should. He didn't.

One night, two months since their first meeting, Lyall turned up unannounced at Hope's door. When she opened it, yawning and grumbling, to find her lover awaiting her, she smiled sleepily at him, greeting him with a hug. She was in her pajamas and a floral dressing gown, her messy hair a warm ginger beneath the glow of street lamps. The suburbs of Cardiff were quiet this late at night, only the occasional distant rumbling of a car engine piercing the silence.

"What are you doing here?" Hope asked him, her voice groggy and puzzled despite her gentle gaze. "It's like, two in the morning." She picked up on his hard expression. "What's the problem?"

"I have something I need to show you," Lyall explained, attempting to keep at bay the urgency to his voice by clearing his throat.

"At two in the morning?" Hope pressed, folding her arms and raising an eyebrow playfully.

Lyall smiled softly at his girlfriend, which helped his panic dwindle, even if by a fraction. "Well, I only need to show you, not the whole world," he assured her. She beamed at him.

They walked down well-lit streets for about an hour, Hope's endless curiosity making for a lot of questions and building excitement. Lyall, on the other hand, was fighting down a rising panic, and kept up a brisk pace until he was satisfied with their location.

The two stood just a little bit out of the way of the city; enough so that they were sheltered from the eyes of onlookers by trees and shrubs. It was completely silent and almost inky black with darkness, something Hope was quick to point out.

"You're lucky I trust you," she stated good-humouredly, pulling her dressing gown tighter around herself. "God knows you could murder me out here and no-one would know."

Lyall was slightly alarmed by the dark turn of the conversation, but smiled at Hope despite it. His heart was pumping so loudly he was worried she could hear it. He hadn't come all this way for nothing; he could do this. "It is pretty dark, eh?" he agreed, hand trembling slightly as he reached for his wand. He kept steady eye contact with his curious girlfriend. "Just... don't freak out, okay?"

"Why would I-"

" _Lumos._ "

Lyall revealed the wand from his robes, a sweaty grip on its handle as the tip lit up. He waved it again, allowing more power into his voice. " _Lumos maxima!_ "

Their surrounding area lit up with a flash of light, and Hope stared around with wide eyes and a slightly gaping mouth. He bit his lip, awaiting a more verbal response. At last, those soft green eyes met his, and she blinked.

"So uh, you have one hell of a torch."

Lyall almost laughed. He wasn't sure whether to be relieved or not. He smiled nervously at her. "It's eh, not a torch," he explained, his gaze dropping to the side. "It's magic."

The skeptical tone of voice never arrived. He found the courage to look at his girlfriend. Hope was staring at him with complete wonder in her eyes. "Really?" she asked softly, inhaling so suddenly that it was just short of a gasp. "I - am I dreaming? This is totally something my imagination would come up with. Lyall, my super secret magic boyfriend."

This time he did laugh, and approached her gingerly to thrown an arm around her shoulders. Of course Hope wouldn't question something so wonderful and outlandish. "No, you're not dreaming. It'll sound totally crazy, but I'm part of a world that has been hidden from you non-magic people for centuries."

Hope blinked. "Are you an alien?!"

"Woah, no, that's not what I was getting at!" Lyall corrected her, rapidly backtracking. "I'm human, don't get me wrong. But some humans are born with magic, and others are not. Those with magic are forced to keep it a secret from those without it. It's our law."

"So you... you have magic," Hope stated, her eyes shining with the stars of the sky above. "Like... a wizard? Just without the staff, or a navy cloak covered in stars?"

"Umm... yeah, sort of." Lyall rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. "Well, most wizards and witches do wear robes, when we're not around Muggles... um, non-magic folk, I mean. We generally use wands to perform magic, though, not staffs."

"So that's what-" she gestured to his wand, still throwing light out from its tip, " _that_ is?"

"Yes."

"It must be like a completely different country," Hope mused, a hand gripping her chin as she thought. "But living amongst our country... and all over the world, I presume?"

Lyall nodded.

"You have your own culture; your own clothes, sports, pets, way of life?"

"Yes!"

"And you mentioned law, so you must have your own government, too? That's insane!"

"We do!" Lyall answered cheerfully, glad she was catching on so quick. "The Ministry of Magic hides in underground London. We have our own court, our own Minister, our own rules - one of which being that Muggles, like yourself, are not to be informed of our magic."

"Then why are you telling me this?" Hope inquired curiously.

Lyall gripped her shoulder gently. The worst of his confession wasn't over. "We're allowed to share this knowledge with our spouses - not that, um, we're married or anything -and not that we have to! Ahah - but I - well - I wanted you to know," Lyall admitted carefully. "And also... do you remember the day we met?"

"Of course," Hope responded, and he wasn't sure if her cheeks were rosy from the night chill or the mention of marriage. "You saved me from that big, awful man."

Lyall sighed. "That was a Boggart," he muttered dejectedly. "They're a kind of magical creature that I specialise in. A Non-Human Spirituous Apparition, if you will. They take on the form of your worst fear."

Hope blinked at him. He attempted to steady his breathing. "That's..." she began reluctantly, "that's pretty cool. That there's all these different kinds of magical creatures running around, with crazy powers? Ooh, can you show me another spell?"

Lyall felt an odd relief flood him. "You don't mind?"

"What do you mean, do I mind? This is the most amazing thing to have ever happened to me!" Hope exclaimed, looking up to him in awe.

"But you weren't ever really in any danger, at the time," Lyall admitted, puzzled by his partner's enthusiasm.

"But you rescued me from my worst fear," Hope enforced, smiling comfortingly at the mousy-haired man. One of her hands crept up her shoulder to squeeze the arm he still had wrapped around her. "Lyall, I love you. I don't care if you think what you did for me that day wasn't such an incredible feat - and don't deny it, I know you. You changed my life when you stepped between that - that Boggart and me. You've been amazing me since day one."

Lyall smiled with all the warmth she brought to his heart, and pulled the young woman into his arms, embracing her and all her compassion and honesty and trust. "It takes guts to be as gentle and kind as you are," he murmured gratefully into her hair. He felt her smile into his shoulder. "And I love you to the moon and back."

The two lovers spent several hours outside that night, enjoying a show of magic tricks and spells, and sharing stories of their different cultures; just talking, and laughing, and dancing beneath the cool light of the moon. They were hopelessly in love, and knew it all too well, and embraced it with both their hearts.

* * *

A/N: _I read the prompt for the Notable Witches & Wizards task and instantly thought of Lyall and Hope's story. It was a pleasure to write, and flesh out their characters (plus I'm a sucker for some cheesy romance)_

* * *

 **HOGWARTS SCHOOL OF WITCHCRAFT AND WIZARDRY (CHALLENGES & ASSIGNMENTS)**

 **Assignment #2:** **Notable Witches & Wizards: **Write about a witch or wizard saving a Muggle from harm's way

 **Chocolate Frog Cards Club:** **Carlotta Pinkstone (Gold):** Incorporate a Muggle knowing about wizards/witches and magic in your story

 **Dragon Breeding Club:** Angelica the Peruvian Vipertooth

 **Gobstones Club:** **Pink Stone:** (theme) Secrets; **Accuracy:** (trait) Eccentric; **Power:** (word) Innocent; **Technique:** (dialogue) "What's the problem?"

 **Insane House Challenge:** **129:** (pairing) Lyall/Hope

 **Seasonal Challenges:** **Days of the Year: National Cheese Day:** Write a really cheesy romance; **Birthstones: Ruby:** (dialogue) "It takes guts to be as gentle and kind as you are."; **Fire Element:** (word) Glow; **Shay's Musical Challenge: The Lion King:** Write about somebody feeling guilty; **Gryffindor Themed Prompts:** (trait) Heroic; **Summer Astronomy Prompts: Perseids Meteor Shower:** (word) Rescue

 **Writing Club:** **Cookie's Crafty Corner: Needles:** Write a het pairing; **Showtime: Making Things Up Again:** (word) Imagination; **Amber's Attic: Tattoos: Loved One's Name:** Write about someone important to your main character; **Em's Emporium: Ami:** Write about somebody standing by their lover's side; **Angel's Arcade: Kung Lao:** (relationship) Partners, (word) Trust, (object) Hat


	16. Unchained

**16.** **Unchained**

Drama/Angst, 1581 words, Rated T

Warnings: Death threats, cursing, bullying

* * *

"Mudbloods like you deserve to burn at the stake."

"Fuck off, Mulciber," Theresa Larkin muttered, attempting to shove the boy out of her way with her free hand. Her books were held tight to her chest with the other.

Avery was eager to join in on the fun, jumping forward to forcefully slam the blonde's books to the floor of the empty corridor.

Theresa shot him a fierce glare. "I said, _fuck off_ , Avery, are you deaf and stupid?"

"Ooh, look out guys, kitty's got claws," Lestrange taunted from behind her, faking a high-pitched and fearful voice, before relaxing into a deep snarl. "Maybe we should pull them out."

Theresa whirled around, her stance bold and steady despite the watery sheen over her narrowed eyes. Mulciber smirked, nudging Avery beside him. The sandy-haired Slytherin had noticed the building tears as well, and shot his friend a smug smile.

"Lay a hand on me and I swear-"

"Ooh, whatcha gonna do to me, huh?" Lestrange pressed, a shark grin forming on his narrow features. He stepped forward, puffing out his chest and shoulders. He stopped two inches from Theresa's face when she refused to move for him. Had she not been a poison to the good name of wizards and witches, Mulciber might have admired her courage. Lestrange was one of the scrawnier of his friends, but had the most twisted mind and elaborate threats.

"You gonna go _cry_ to your filthy Muggle parents?" the raven-haired teen continued, sneering at the blonde. He grabbed the girl's chin with one hand, a fierce and strong grip on her as her true panic began to shine through. "Here's a suggestion," he spat, leaning in with a scowl. "Go throw yourself off the roof. Rid of yourself and make the world that bit better. I hope it hurts, too."

Wrenching herself free from his hand, Theresa stumbled backwards and tripped over her books. She sniffed, hastily gathering them into her arms before standing up once more, teary-eyed and fearful.

"F-fuck off," she echoed, but the fire in her voice had dulled. She barged between Avery and Mulciber and tore off down the hallway, leaving the Slytherins to cackle hysterically.

"Oh, this never gets old," Avery commented cheerily, pretending to wipe a tear of mirth from his eye.

"You finally got her to snap, Lestrange," Mulciber praised his dark-haired pal, giving the shorter boy's shoulder a shake. "Merlin's arse, was she fiesty. Never paid me any mind. You have that - that..."

"That _savagery_ ," Avery finished, grinning from ear to ear. "You're a beast. A monster!"

Lestrange shook off Mulciber's hand coldly, staring down the corridor with disgust prominent on his pale face. "I wish she _would_ jump off the roof. Her kind don't belong here, they're a fucking disgrace." Without further ado, he slunk off down the corridor, fists clenched and expression grim.

Avery watched until the boy was out of sight, before glancing up at Mulciber with a raised eyebrow. "That was kind of dark, don't you think? Even for us, like. I just think it's funny to make 'em cry."

Mulciber shrugged, pocketing his hands in his robes. "That's just Lestrange, mate. He gets really into this pure-blooded stuff; his family doesn't even like half-bloods. I mean, _my_ family's not even in your Sacred Twenty-whatever, so I wouldn't really know. I just think that Mudbloods are disgusting."

Avery frowned, a hand rising to scratch the back of his neck. "Would he really be happy if Larkin killed herself, though? She's in, what, third year? Maybe fourth year?"

Mulciber narrowed his eyes at his friend, shooting him a dubious glance. "Mate, Riddle _killed_ that other Mudblood last year. So yeah, Lestrange would probably be delighted. I get what you mean, death's a bit harsh, but like, how else do you purify the world?"

Avery shrugged, leaning against the wall. "You've got me there."

They were alerted by approaching footsteps enough to let the conversation dwindle, though as their heads lifted up to identify the passerby, they realised it was an ally.

"You idiots try way too hard to look cool," Rosier commented with an eye roll as he approached.

"We weren't..?" Avery began, raising an eyebrow defensively, though was silenced by Rosier's unimpressed gaze.

"Riddle wants to see you two. We're calling for a gang meeting, the old Arithmancy classroom," the brunet reported drily. He shot the two an especially hard glare. " _Immediately._ If you're late, you know Riddle will have a punishment ready."

Avery dropped his background mumbling about missing his favourite class at Rosier's final statement, biting his cheek. "Let's go, Mulciber," he muttered, though the taller teen needed no convincing either.

The trio was hasty on their journey to the abandoned classroom, and after frantic glances down the hallway in both directions, they deemed it safe to enter, locking the door after them.

The classroom was cold and dark, one of the inner rooms of the castle that saw no sunlight and had no windows. Most of the desks and chairs had been moved out, and what was left had been claimed by dust and cobwebs.

"Rosier. Mulciber... _Avery._ "

There was the Heir of Slytherin himself, leaning back against the old teacher's desk. He barely acknowledged the three's arrival outside of his careless greeting; his dark brown eyes were focused on a diary sitting on the desk at his side, examining it almost as if it were more interesting than his friends. In chairs around him was the rest of the gang; Nott, Dolohov, even Lestrange had found his way there before them, after stalking off.

"Ri- er, Lord Voldemort," Mulciber replied, his throat dry. They had all thought it a joke last year, when Riddle had informed them of his new title. Unfortunately, he didn't take kindly to being referred to by his Muggle name anymore. "Is it too soon to ask why we're here _now_?"

Someone scoffed from where they were seated. "Have somewhere better to be, _Mulciber?_ " Nott sneered at him, but was silenced by Riddle's sharp glare.

The gang's leader let out a long, slow exhale. His gaze dropped to his hands for a brief moment while his head made the painfully long movement of turning to face Mulciber. "Straight to business, hmm?" the black-haired teen inquired, almost sorrowful. "Why don't we have a chat, first? We're all _friends_ here."

Nobody spoke a word. Mulciber supposed that most of the others in the room were just as intimidated by Riddle's slow, cold voice, heavy lies and careful pronunciation as he was. Nobody was quite as academic as Riddle; a few of them had made it into the Slug Club based upon their family name alone. Nobody was quite as malicious, either, though Dolohov and Lestrange came close.

"So, the problem is, I don't think some of you are taking this seriously," Riddle began, following a resounding silence. His tone was light yet accusatory, an unsettling combination that brought Mulciber to shift on the spot. "Now, I know that we're _friends_ , but I think I've made it pretty clear that as my friends, I expect certain things of you. By now, I would hope that you're all aware of our goal, correct?"

The room's occupants hastily nodded before Riddle could turn his cold gaze upon them. Even as it passed over Mulciber, he felt as though his soul had been examined.

"Muggles are second class to wizards, of course. And Mudbloods are undeserving of our magic. It doesn't belong to them rightfully, they're stealing it from us," Riddle's voice rose to a snarl, though he kept that dark gaze focused downwards. A couple of others smirked in agreement. "They are unworthy of studying it here. I believe most of you understand where this is headed?"

There was another round of nodding and silence.

"I want them gone. I don't care what it takes. If you have to kill them, don't be a fool and allow it to be tracked back to you. To _me._ "

Avery raised his shaky sixteen-year-old hand before Mulciber could stop him. Riddle's head snapped up.

"Avery?"

"Um - isn't it, I don't know, I just thought - that maybe it's a little... too far? To be murdering other students?"

Mulciber felt his heartbeat in his throat. Riddle fixed Avery with a piercing glare.

"Avery," he said, voice silky smooth - and dangerously so. "If you aren't going to follow through, you can go back to what you were before I took you in; a joke of a pureblood, friendless, and _unwanted_." Riddle actually straightened up, shifting his full weight onto his feet, and stepped forward in Avery's direction. "If you _betray_ me, Avery, don't think you won't be added to the lists of targets without hesitance."

Avery nodded vigorously. He looked terrified; Mulciber almost pitied the sandy-haired kid, but Riddle had a point. If someone wasn't committed, the group risked exposure.

"Understood?"

"Yes, a-absolutely, Lord Voldemort."

Riddle returned to his desk, leaning back against it once more. His eyes returned to the diary, the corners of his lips curving upwards ever so slightly.

"You're all dismissed," he stated blandly, waving them away. His second statement was quieter, muttered under his breath with a cold expression; Mulciber just about picked it up as he headed gratefully for the door.

"Let's see what you're made of."

* * *

A/N: _This was actually so hard to write, between balancing out teenage shenanigans and evil, to differentiating the personalities of each Death Eater, to how they interact amongst each other versus with Riddle and then getting Riddle's character right? Send help ):_

* * *

 **HOGWARTS SCHOOL OF WITCHCRAFT AND WIZARDRY (CHALLENGES & ASSIGNMENTS)**

 **Assignment #2:** **Introduction to Quidditch Task 2:** Write about someone or something causing harm

 **Chocolate Frog Cards Club:** **Mulciber I (Bronze):** Write about Mulciber I's friendship with Tom Riddle

 **Dragon Breeding Club:** Angelica the Peruvian Vipertooth

 **Gobstones Club:** **Copper Stone:** (theme) Corruption; **Accuracy:** (word) Heir; **Power:** (word) Monster; **Technique:** (emotion) Disgust

 **Insane House Challenge:** **976:** (emotion) Scared

 **Seasonal Challenges:** **Summer Prompts:** (dialogue) "You try way too hard to look cool."; **Shay's Musical Challenge: Wicked:** Write about someone being bullied; **Gryffindor Themed Prompts:** (trait) Fiesty

 **Writing Club:** **Cookie's Crafty Corner: Purl Stitch:** Write from the perspective of a Death Eater or someone on the wrong side of events; **Showtime: Spooky Mormon Hell Dream:** (action) Lying; **Amber's Attic:** Write about someone making a commitment; **Count Your Buttons:** (word) Malicious; **Em's Emporium: Lin:** Write a story set in Hogwarts; **Angel's Arcade: Kabal:** (dialogue) "Let's see what you're made of.", (title) Unchained, (action) Clenching fists; **Lo's Lowdown: Character Based Prompts: Aaron Hotchner:** Write about someone who does not show emotion often; **Bex's Bazaar: Bullying:** Write about someone being bullied. Write from a bully's perspective

 **CAMP POTTER**

 **Ice-Cream Making Station:** **Waffle Cone:** (object) Diary


	17. Feel No More (Feel No Less)

**17\. Feel No More (Feel No Less)**

Angst/Family, 3049 words, Rated T

Warnings: Death, canon-typical violence, cursing

* * *

"I never liked Albus."

The elderly bartender clumsily fiddled with the lock on the door as he grumbled, shutting out the inky darkness of a cool night. He wobbled precariously as he walked, his weight drastically shifting from one foot to the next as he made his way over to what looked like a chair in the corner of the room. His eyes, usually sharp and witty behind their piercing blue colour, seemed loose in his skull, unable to focus on any one thing.

"He was always better than me, y'know?" Aberforth slurred, finally managing to collapse back into the chair.

The small goat he was conversing with yawned from its position on the wooden floor.

Aberforth scowled at the memories of his early life, though felt compelled to continue. He had never told this particular goat his life story. Had he told any of his goats his life story? He couldn't really remember.

"When we were kids, back'n the day..." He paused, rusty gears turning in his mind. "Our little sister, Ariana, was attacked by a gang of Muggle boys. She went _crazy_ after that, as anyone her age would, I s'pose. Dad went to _Azkaban_ after he went after those Muggle boys."

The goat kicked out at a fly, knocking his leg on the floor loudly. Aberforth frowned.

"Shut it, you, you..." he mumbled, trailing off. Uninspired, he took a long swig from an abandoned bottle of who-knows-what on the table nearby. The events of the story clicked back into place in his head. "Ah, yes... then Mum moved us to a new village, t'keep Ariana safe. Ariana's my sister, did I mention? I was her favourite."

 _"Godric's Hollow," Albus stated out of the blue one night, as he sat down at the small dining table for Kendra's hastily-prepared evening meal. "It's an odd town, don't you agree, Abes?"_

 _Aberforth stared at his older brother blankly, a pit forming in his stomach the longer he looked at him. Albus was all ready to go back to Hogwarts; his auburn hair carefully combed, not a hair out of place. He was only returning for his second year and already, his professors were claiming that he was one of the most brilliant students they'd ever taught._

 _"I don't like our neighbours," Aberforth muttered. He didn't know why Albus was trying to bring up such a conversation. The brothers rarely got along; they disagreed on numerous topics. Such as how Albus was ashamed of their father for attacking the Muggle boys, claiming the first few weeks of school were a nightmare because of the Dumbledore name's reputation. Aberforth thought it had been an act of justice, but no, of course Albus, the wise and wonderful eldest child, was correct, as Kendra would agree with him._ _He was without a doubt the favourite child; some days Aberforth could have worn an invisibility cloak and stayed silent and the day would have gone the same way._

 _"You've never even met our neighbours!" Albus pointed out, grinning with amusement at his little brother's antics._

 _Aberforth scowled, taking his dinner plate and standing up. "Actually, I have," he shot back. Just a few days ago, he had chucked goat dung at a group of kids trying to climb into their garden and catch a glimpse of the 'Squib' girl the Dumbledores were hiding._

 _"Where are you going, Aberforth?" Kendra inquired, her tone sharp as the boy attempted to leave the kitchen, plate in hand._

 _"Ariana," Aberforth replied, and left to visit his sister despite his mother's opposition to the idea._

 _As he approached her bedroom, he could hear the young girl humming quietly to herself. He smiled, knocking gently on the door before letting himself in._

 _Ariana glanced up at her brother and beamed over at him. She was sitting cross-legged on her bed in a navy blue night gown, her sketchbook open in front of her and pencil in hand. A bowl of dinner sat untouched on her bedside table. She patted a space on the bed beside her, and Aberforth gratefully sat down next to the girl._

 _"Your drawings are beautiful," he murmured, setting his plate to the side for a moment. He had tried to teach her how to incorporate her magic into her artwork, so that her characters could move, but she was completely opposed to the idea of magic anymore. The thought nearly caused the anger inside of him to bubble over._ _She didn't deserve this._

 _The blonde smiled appreciatively at her brother, before pointing to one drawing in particular and then back at him. It depicted two people sitting in chairs, the sun above them, and a four-legged creature nosing their hands. For an eight-year-old, her drawings were fairly detailed, and Aberforth caught on quick._

 _"Is that us?" he asked, smiling at his sister, who nodded enthusiastically. "Feeding the goats?"_

 _She clapped her hands together cheerily, grinning from ear to ear._

 _"Speaking of feeding," Aberforth continued, raising an eyebrow at the girl playfully. "You haven't touched you dinner."_

 _Ariana's face fell, and she frowned, glancing to the soup guiltily._

 _"You know you need to eat," Aberforth prompted her gently, though his tone of voice hardened ever so slightly. Ariana frowned. "Just a few bites? Please? For me?"_

 _The blonde bit her_ _lip, but reached over and picked up the bowl regardless. Aberforth smiled at her in encouragement, and she returned his expression sheepishly, before slowly raising the spoon to her lips._

"Sometimes I miss you so much I can hardly stand it," Aberforth muttered to himself bitterly, pulling at his beard. The portrait of his sister, so young and sweet and innocent, hung on his bedroom wall in the living space of the bar; he felt awfully compelled to visit her in that moment, the memories of his childhood bringing with them a distinct wave of nostalgia. But alas, he was too drunk to stand, and his sister was painfully out of reach for the time being.

His eyes managed to locate the goat he was talking to, who might have fallen asleep; the picture was so blurry he couldn't be sure. "A few years passed, and it was my turn to 'tend Hogwar's..." He managed to continue speaking, however difficult it was becoming to separate his words. "Tha's when I _really_ began t' hate Albus."

 _"If you were your brother, Mister Dumbledore, this essay would have been turned in on time, two weeks ago."_

 _"Well, I'm_ not, _am I?" Aberforth spat at his Transfiguration professor, his cheeks red with rage. "I'm not straight-O Albus, the model student, the perfect child to teach, who has a million friends and the most brilliant mind Hogwarts has ever seen!"_

 _"No, you're certainly not," the professor agreed drily. "That's detention for a week, Dumbledore, this essay has been turned in late."_

 _Aberforth felt his hands trembling with fury, jealousy and in that moment pure hatred for his older brother. He was just permanently sitting in Albus Bright Future Dumbledore's shadow. He didn't have any friends, because at the first disagreement, he managed to drive them away with his stubborn opinions and long-lasting grudges. He had an average mind, but failing grades, because there were more important things than his education, such as Ariana, who Albus_ never _wrote to. He was Aberforth Dumbledore, who was caught duelling someone every second day, who got to skip detentions because he already had one scheduled for that evening, who felt completely and utterly miserable at school, as if had he never attended, like Ariana, nobody would know his name._

"And then!" Aberforth let out a half-hearted laugh through the resurfacing emotions. "He becomes _Gryff'ndor Prefect_ in fifth year. _Head Boy_ in seventh year. A prize for Super Spell Casting, or some... shit like tha'. He got a spot on the Wiz'ngamot, a prize for his stuff with _alchemy._ Ari and I, we were jus'... _holdin' him back._ "

The goat bleated empathetically. Or maybe it didn't, because the room was starting to spin and Merlin knows what his ears were listening to. He closed his eyes peacefully, taking another swig for good measure, wiping his mouth on a rough cotton sleeve.

"He was such a... _pr'tentious arse,_ " Aberforth grumbled. "So ready to get outta school, leave the house... and _us._ Then, course, Ari had an accident and killed Mum."

 _From the little spark may burst a mighty flame. Aberforth hadn't even been home to witness it. Next thing, he was being pulled out of school to return to an eerily quiet household and a traumatised Ariana, holding her knees to her chest, tears staining her cheeks._

 _"Hey, hey, it's okay," he comforted her, stress and strain pulling at his heart because as often as he had spoken bad of Kendra, she was - Merlin, she was actually fucking dead. At the hands of his little sister. "I'm here. I'm with you."_

 _Albus mourned like no other; but he was so furious, so angry that he would have to stay in Godric's Hollow to take care of Ariana. He was heartbroken by their mother's death, of course; he had always been a mummy's boy. But he wasn't so forgiving. He seemed to despise his little sister, though he wouldn't have said it aloud. For murdering his mother. For holding him back._

 _Aberforth despised Albus, and was much more willing to admit it. It was never Ariana's fault. She'd never deserved the life those Muggle boys had cursed her to live. She had no control over her magic; she was so sweet and kind and naive but so conflicted from the war her abilities were waging on the inside. Her outbursts were bound to cause some real damage eventually._

 _He had, of course, offered to drop out of school. It wouldn't have bothered him in the slightest. Even with his brother graduated, he was still in his shadow. Still invisible. Still absolutely miserable. He was more than happy to take responsibility over his sister and let Albus leave the nest and disappear. Ariana was the one person who_ saw _him. The one person who loved him without his doubt of it._

 _Albus, naturally, the oh-so-wise older brother, said no. It must have been bad enough to have such a useless younger brother, but to have him drop out of school? Merlin_ forbid _his reputation as a Dumbledore take a hit._

"I though' I'd hit rock bottom, when 'e sen' me back t'school," Aberforth admitted woefully. He tried to stretch down and stroke the sleeping goat (was it even a goat? Maybe a large balled up piece of paper, his vision was so blurry), but nearly toppled to the floor. Bad idea. " _Apparen'ly,_ rock bottom has a basement. Albus, the fuckin' _fool_ , had made a friend by th' time I was home again for summer. Shitty results that year, if you'ere wond'rin'." The goat didn't even stir.

 _Aberforth and Ariana were sitting in her windowsill, laughing at silly old sketches and comparing them to her newer ones. She'd improved so much over the years, with nothing much else to do, cooped up in her bedroom all day. Even with Kendra gone, Albus still enforced the rule that she was to stay hidden from their neighbours. Nevertheless, her window was quite sheltered, and she was glad to sit in it and soak up the sun._

 _Aberforth was distracted from her artwork by movement in the corner of his eye; two figures were standing in the garden, clearly having a deep conversation. The nearer one shifted, bringing the face of the shorter one into view. It was Albus._

 _"Who's that?" Aberforth had opened his mouth before he could stop himself. "With Albus?" Ariana stared at him for a moment, before she too turned her vacant gaze to the window._

 _"Albus' friend," she whispered, her voice barely heard over the room's silence. Aberforth was caught off guard; she usually preferred not to use her voice. He'd never pressed as to why. "His name's Gellert."_

"Gellert Grindewald," Aberforth spat, an expression of disgust causing his nose to scrunch up and his face to wrinkle. "Course, di'n' take me long t' realise what was goin' on. I overheard 'em talkin' one day. Could'a killed Albus righ' then'n there."

 _"You and I, we're not so different," Gellert was saying. Aberforth caught sight of the tall young man from where he was crouched carefully behind a bush. His smile was chilling to the core._

 _Aberforth had been wondering why Albus hadn't up and left the minute he came home for the summer. His older brother never spent much time in the house, but he was always with Gellert, walking around Godric's Hollow, deep in conversation, visiting the graveyard and creepy shit like that. There was something up. Aberforth wasn't the most academic, but it didn't take the Minister to figure out that much._

 _Mere minutes into eavesdropping on the conversation and Aberforth was seething with fury. Albus, in all his shitty goodness and popularity and shame for his supposedly 'Muggle-hating' father, was so fucking desperate for power that he was going to team up with this absolute madman to legitimately rule the world and force Muggles into submission. Aberforth couldn't believe his ears. He could, however, jump up, trembling with rage, to confront his idiotic brother and his stupid friend. It was always best to resolve these kind of conflicts face to face, wand out._

 _"Albus - what the_ fuck?! _" was the first thing he could think of to say, his mind absolutely blown by his hatred for the eldest child._

 _He was given some satisfaction when the pair flinched, but it drained Albus turned to face him with a dull and strained expression, running a hand through his auburn hair._

 _"Merlin damn you, Aberforth. You gave me a scare."_

 _Aberforth nearly lost his mind, he was so overwhelmed by emotion. "Gave you a - GAVE YOU A SCARE?! How could you be so_ selfish _, so_ reckless! _"_

 _"I really wish you weren't here right now," Albus responded calmly._

 _"How long do you think this will last?! Making Muggles second-class - have you lost your fucking mind?!"_

 _Albus sniffed, unfaltered. "If anyone here has, I think it's you-"_

 _"DON'T YOU TURN THIS ON ME!" Aberforth roared, his wand aimed straight at Albus' head. "And what about Ariana?! Are you just going to take her with you when I go back to school? You_ know _she's in no state to do that! How could you do that to her - to me?!"_

 _"Crucio,"_ _muttered Gellert, almost carelessly._

 _His bones were on fire. He vaguely heard someone screaming, and then the ache in his lungs informed him that it was him. He felt as though his limbs were being ripped off, and stitched back together with a sword instead of a needle. His entire body was burning up; his head was exploding; his senses were overwhelmed by the most immense pain he had ever endured in his life._

 _And then it stopped in an instant, nothing but a ghostly pain, his entire body left aching and sweaty and gasping for air_ _. He was spread-eagled on the ground, his limbs thrown in all sorts of directions._

 _He vaguely heard the crashing of spells, and managed to tilt his head in such a way to witness the violent duel Gellert and Albus had hastily engaged in. Albus stood over his body, his face pale with guilt and regret. Gellert looked like the humanisation of anger._

 _Aberforth was on his feet with haste, left winded but furious from the curse he'd been placed under. In an instant he was firing spells at both men, not knowing who was who or what incantations he himself was whispering. Adrenaline was keeping his heart on its toes, as well as his reflexes. With every blow he took, he struck back with something more powerful, flashes and bangs and yells echoing off of every house in the village._

 _He didn't even notice her at first. A blur of blonde hair and a yellow dress; she began screaming for the fight to stop, limbs waving and distress eminent._

 _"Ari!" Aberforth screamed over the noise, sudden fear gripping him like ice; another spell sent him back several feet and he knew he couldn't stop, he had to keep fighting._

 _The next thing he knew, her screaming was cut off. Underneath the bangs and crashes and shouts of young men, there was a thud. She lay still, a halo of blonde hair around her face, which was shocked into a blank expression._

 _The duel ended. Gellert got a glance at the faces of the brothers and Disapparated in an instant._

 _Fear and regret and guilt and shock didn't take long to set in. His legs were racing over before his mind was, his hands cupping her still warm face, tears flowing down his cheeks as he shook her, hugged her, begged for her to wake up._

 _He never knew whose curse hit her._

 _He broke Albus' nose at the funeral._

 _He had never felt so alone._

"I never forgave 'im," Aberforth mumbled, hiccuping as he fiercely blinked back drunken tears. "He could only 'pologise over n' over..." - he hiccuped again - "he 'ad so much regret, an' guilt, 'e said he knew 'e was in the wrong, but he can't bring 'er back. He _didn't._ "

The old man let out a harsh cough instead of a sob, scaring the goat enough to prompt it to run from the room.

"An' maybe, 'e di'n even hit her," Aberforth mumbled to himself, miserably glaring at the opened envelope and letter on the bar counter. "...maybe I did."

 _Dear Mr Aberforth Dumbledore,_  
 _We regret to inform you that your brother, Albus Dumbledore, has passed away._

* * *

 **HOGWARTS SCHOOL OF WITCHCRAFT AND WIZARDRY (CHALLENGES & ASSIGNMENTS)**

 **Assignment #2:** **Ancient Runes Task 3:** Write about someone who feels invisible

 **Chocolate Frog Cards Club:** **Aberforth Dumbledore (Silver):** Write about Aberforth and his relationship with Albus

 **Dragon Breeding Club:** Peggy the Romanian Longhorn

 **Garage Sale Competition:** **5.** Portrait

 **Gobstones Club:** **White Stone:** (theme) Mourning; **Accuracy:** (dialogue) "How long do you think this will last?"; **Power:** (emotion) Shame; **Technique:** (dialogue) "I'm with you."

 **Insane House Challenge:** **19.** (character) Albus Dumbledore

 **Seasonal Challenges:** **Days of the Year: World Gin Day:** Write about someone getting drunk; **Summer Prompts:** (dialogue) "Sometimes I miss you so much I can hardly stand it."; **Birthstones: Alexandrite:** (dialogue) "I thought I'd hit rock bottom, but apparently rock bottom has a basement."; **Flowers: Cosmos:** (title) Feel No More (Feel No Less); **Fire Element:** (quote) "From the little spark may burst a mighty flame." -Dante; **Shay's Musical Challenge: Heathers:** Write about someone gaining something and then realising that they don't want it anymore; **Gryffindor Themed Prompts: Characters (Hard):** Albus Dumbledore, **Traits:** Reckless, **Other Prompts:** (location) Godric's Hollow;

 **Writing Club:** **Character Appreciation: 17.** (word) Apology; **Book Club: Nick:** (dialogue) "We're not so different.", (trait) Risk-taking, (colour) Navy blue; **Showtime: 3.** (trait) Selfish; **Amber's Attic: T3.** Write about innocence (5 BONUS POINTS); **Count Your Buttons: D1.** (dialogue) "I really wish you weren't here right now.", **W1.** (word) Accident; **Lyric Alley: 2.** Hide away, they say; **Em's Emporium: Emiliya:** (quote) "It's always easier to resolve conflicts face to face."; **Lo's Lowdown: C4.** Write about someone who prefers actions to words; **Bex's Bazaar: F2.** Write about someone reminiscing; **Film Festival:** (plot point) Getting drunk


	18. A Taste for Danger

**18.** **A Taste for Danger**

Romance/Drama, 1506 words, Rated T

Warnings: Mild cursing

* * *

Seamus Finnigan was bored.

Usually, he enjoyed a day out with his boyfriend. The beach, especially, was a thrill - the shock of cold water, the big waves rolling in towards the shore, the salty smell and the sound of seagulls. The only downsides were the occasional jellyfish, which terrified him like nothing else; but there didn't seem to be any today. And the weather was simply _ideal_ for a beach day; Ireland had been hit by a rare heat wave that had lasted the entire week. Seamus had been desperately awaiting the opportunity to visit the seaside, which was far more fun than the cheap paddling pool in his backyard. So he shouldn't have been bored.

That being said, he had also been expecting to spend some time with his lover. Spread sunscreen on each other's backs, fail at playing beach volley ball, even toss their inflatable beach ball back and forth in the water - _those_ things weren't boring.

Being left alone on his beach towel, pale back now shiny and lobster red due to sunburn because of nobody applying sunscreen on him; that _sucked_.

It wasn't really Dean's fault, in fairness. The young man worked as a lifeguard during the summer months, which was the reason they were going to the beach in the first place, as Dean had carefully explained, in an attempt to calm Seamus' excitement as they drove to the coast. He had made it very clear that he probably wouldn't be able to mess around with his partner, because he was being paid to do a highly important job.

Yeah, so maybe Seamus should have listened.

The freckled Irish lad rolled over with a groan, flinching as his arm hit the boiling hot sand. He sat up with a start, cradling the new (and probably very minor) burn and pouting. In the distance, out on the water, there was Dean in his kayak, warning people who were swimming too far from shore. It was rather unfortunate that Seamus hadn't packed binoculars; he would have taken great pleasure in watching his boyfriend's dark muscles flex as he paddled along.

"In fact," he spoke aloud, a mischievous grin forming as he mused to himself, "I don't need binoculars."

A grand scheme was beginning to play out in his fantastic mind; a plan most clever, that Dean would perhaps be mad over but would almost definitely be worth it. It was risky, but he was Seamus Finnigan. Risk-taking was his middle name!

Not really, but he _was_ feeling up for something daring. Hell, just something to do that wasn't rolling around and whining. The sandy-haired young man scrambled to his feet and made a sprint for the ocean, jumping over a football some kids were kicking around in his excitement. He heard their laughs and giggles behind him as his feet hit the saltwater, which felt as cold as actual ice after sitting in the heat. Nevertheless, he continued to run forward as fast as the water would allow him, until his weight overtook his speed and he fell in headfirst, closing his eyes and shutting his mouth in the nick of time.

Upon surfacing, he was rapidly hit by an intense shiver and millions of goosebumps all over, causing him to gasp in shock.

"Merlin's balls, it's _cold!_ " he exclaimed to nobody in particular, and was hasty to began swimming out to Dean, trying to warm up his muscles as quickly as possible.

Fortunately, it didn't take too long for his body to adjust. A minute of relentless front crawl had his temperature regulated and his position close enough to hear Dean's gentle, sexy as all hell voice prompting people closer to shore.

"Please be wary of the rip current," the lifeguard was instructing a group of teenage boys, who laughed in response.

"Yeah, sure," one of them replied carelessly, his voice almost taunting. Seamus felt compelled to splash saltwater into his eyes, but Dean's next remark left him filled with pride.

"I will actually drag the lot of you, one by one, back to shore by the ear if you don't start heading back yourselves," the muscled young man snapped at them. The job musn't have been one of the best for customer feedback; Dean rarely lost his composure unless really pushed, and nothing pissed him off more than lack of manners.

Seamus turned away as Dean paddled past him, only a few meters away. His boyfriend couldn't see his face, not yet; that part was crucial. He heard the gentle splashing of oars grow more distant and smirked to himself, swimming out further, until he had passed the safety markers. He glanced back to Dean, whose back was turned, and decided he was happy with his position. He took a deep breath and prepared to dunk his head beneath the water, limbs ready to flail and take on the role of a drowning swimmer.

And then he paused, because Dean was getting further and further away, despite having stopped paddling, and the pull on his legs was growing stronger amd stronger.

"Oh, _shit_ ," Seamus cursed softly. He'd swam straight into the rip current, which was dragging him out to sea, as they do. The lanky young man dove straight into a powerful front crawl, fighting to swim back against the current with all the strength he could muster. It was evident, however, that his progress was little to none, and despite his best efforts he was rapidly tiring, and panic was setting in.

"Dean!" he called out weakly; his boyfriend was growing more and more distant, as was the shore. He couldn't feel the sand beneath his feet anymore. He was entering open ocean, and the thought was terrifying. He didn't have his wand with him to aid him; he was screwed. " _Dean! Help!_ "

The current was only growing stronger the harder he swam, desperate now, movements more like a thrashing toddler than an experienced swimmer. The panic gripping him was consuming all his energy, making each stroke weaker than the previous. The split second he took a break, his head went under, with a lack of leg power to keep him afloat. He surfaced choking and in pain from the saltwater up his nose, more panicked than before.

" _DEAN!_ " he screamed, worried that he was about to start crying, or probably _actually_ drown at this point. "Please... I think I'm dying..."

His head dipped beneath the surface again, without him willingly taking a break this time, and the panic and adrenaline were fading. He just managed to surface again - _stay alive, Seamus, don't die, Seamus,_ he repeated to himself fiercely, but his strength was akin to that of a newborn's at this point, and sweet Merlin he was so... tired...

When he opened his eyes again, he was lying in the sand. His back, still wet, was probably covered in grains of sand that would be stuck there until he showered at home. The thought made him frown, just as an open mouth crashed down on his now-closed one.

"Gah-" the Irish man yelped, sitting bolt upright and nearly knocking out Dean with the impact of their two heads hitting. Dean stared at him blankly for a moment, enough time for Seamus to pipe up again. "Look, I know we're dating, but I do actually appreciate when you ask first, before kissing me like that-"

Dean stared at him, his expression so puzzled yet furious that it was difficult to read. "You absolute _idiot!_ " he yelled, sitting up with tense muscles. " _Why_ did you do that?! Jesus Christ, you scared me, Seamus - I thought you were _dead!_ "

Seamus felt a twinge of guilt as he noticed his lover beginning to tear up. His blue eyes dropped to look at his feet, slight shame building now. "I - well, I was bored without you, so I planned to fake a drowning and have you perform CPR," he admitted with a sheepish laugh.

Dean was not impressed. "You almost _actually_ drowned, Seamus," he pointed out, eyes narrowed with anger. "How could you be so foolish like that? If you had died while _I_ was on lifeguard duty, I'd never forgive myself!"

Seamus bit his lip guiltily. "I had faith that you would save me," he murmured quietly, eyes meeting Dean's soft brown ones once again. "I'm really sorry, Dean." He paused. "But did you perform CPR on me? Like, mouth-to-mouth?"

"You are so chaotic," Dean whispered, shaking his head in disappointment, but a small smile gracing his lips. "But yes, I did."

"Real love is always chaotic," Seamus assured Dean with a grin, "and you did? Score! It was totally worth it now."

Dean rolled his eyes affectionately, and Seamus threw his arms around his boyfriend's neck to pull him in for one really salty kiss.

* * *

 **HOGWARTS SCHOOL OF WITCHCRAFT AND WIZARDRY (CHALLENGES & ASSIGNMENTS)**

 **Assignment #3:** **Photography Task 3:** Write about being rewarded for taking a risk

 **Chocolate Frog Cards Club:** **Dean Thomas (Silver):** Write about Dean Thomas

 **Dragon Breeding Club:** Peggy the Romanian Longhorn

 **Garage Sale Competition:** **9** **.** Ball

 **Gobstones Club:** **Grey Stone:** (theme) Summer; **Accuracy:** (au) Lifeguard; **Power:** (weather) Heat wave; **Technique:** (dialogue) "I think I'm dying."

 **Insane House Challenge:** **88.** (pairing) Dean/Seamus

 **Seasonal Challenges:** **Days of the Year: World Ocean Day:** Write a story that takes place in, on, or under the water; **Summer Prompts:** (word) Ocean; **Birthstones: Carnelian:** (dialogue) "Real love is always chaotic."; **Shay's Musical Challenge: Anything Goes:** Write about risking your own neck for love; **Gryffindor Themed Prompts: Characters (Easy):** Dean Thomas, **Traits:** Daring

 **Writing Club:** **Showtime: 11.** (word) Faith; **Amber's Attic: S1.** Write a fic set in/on the water; **Lyric Alley: 25.** I know that I deserve your love


	19. The Worst in Me

**19\. The Worst in Me**

Crime/Drama, 1395 words, Rated T

Warnings: Death

* * *

 _"W_ _hy'd you do it, McLaggen?"_

 _You glare down the judge from where you're seated in the small and cramped court room. It smells oddly of goats, and there isn't really a proper floor; you kick up a cloud of dust out of boredom._

 _"You burnt down the residence of a Ronald Weasley, while he and your wife were trapped inside. You killed 'em, McLaggen, and you'll hang for it. All I'm asking is why?"_

"Walk on, Cleansweep," you instruct the horse beneath you, squeezing its barrel with your heels. The stallion snorts in protest, tossing its head, but you persist, gently digging in your gold spurs. He finally obeys, picking up his pace and leaving dust in his wake as you distance yourself from the town.

You could see the structure in the distance, lonely and quiet. Not even the birds were flocking the area, like they did in Hogsmeade. You urge the equine onwards, the sound of his hooves muffled in the dirt. Perfect for a surprise attack. You were going to catch your wife red-handed.

You dismount your steed with a grim expression, staring up at the old wooden shack in disgust. It looks about ready to collapse any moment, yet Hermione would rather spend her life under its thin roof than under yours.

Cleansweep is quick to take advantage of your distracted state, nearly knocking you off of your feet as he noses your pockets in search of treats. You scowl at the chestnut stallion, giving him a light slap across the nose for disobedience. Maybe, had it been just another day out with the horse, you would have produced a carrot from your leather pants; this is not just another day out. Your face is red with anger and you are not in the mood for playing nice. You slip the reins over his head, tying them to a fence post marking the building's perimeter.

As you approach the front door on steady feet, your leather boots creaking with every wary step, you can begin to make out the sound of voices from the upper floor of the building. Your muscles tense with rage; you can hear Hermione's sweet voice laughing along with the rather goofy voice of her new lover. You grit your teeth and have to keep in an outburst waiting to happen.

The door hangs loose and unlocked on rusty hinges; you run a calloused hand through your curly blond hair as an output for the built-up energy when it swings slowly open with a long-lasting creak.

The hallway is dingy and the floor doesn't seem quite parallel with the ceiling. A frayed, faded carpet that might have once been red lay over rotting floor boards that creaked and whined with the slightest bit of weight pressed upon them. Your lip rises in disgust. You were a wealthy man, a strong man, with a fine residence, your own stallion and good connections in town. What more could a woman want? A house about ready to collapse at any time, and a red-haired fool you'd seen her conversing with at the market?

You take a candle from an uneven table top at the end of the wobbly staircase, the lack of decent lighting working against you. You're fortunate enough that you've got endless bravery, you think to yourself, a brief moment of pride filling you up; had you been any less determined or courageous, there was no way you would have trusted the wooden steps the way you do as you ascend them.

The entire residence smells of must and mould, but in particular the upstairs, bringing your perfect nose to wrinkle with distaste. The creaking of wood is luckily muffled beneath the loud laughter and voices of the couple upstairs. You can just about make out exactly what they're saying.

"Run away with me," the young man is prompting her. "We'll leave this town, and your stuck-up husband. I've got family in Ottery St Catchpole; we can leave these lives behind."

You silently pray for even some hesitance from Hermione, and hope blossoms when she laughs that beautiful melodic laugh. It quickly diminishes. "Oh Ron, you know I would love to," she assures him sweetly, and you hear movement. The image of her cuddling up to him is so enfuriating that you go to reach for your gun from its holster at your waist. You grip the handle, considering it. Shooting this _Ron_ and taking back your wife would be a satisfactory revenge. You stand tall outside the bedroom door, awaiting the right moment.

"But how will we get there?" Hermione is asking, concern in her tone. "We have no horses; the day I don't come home to Cormac is the day he'll send out a search party. We can't outrun them on foot."

"I've got a friend," Ron replies confidently. "His name's Harry. He's got the fastest stallion in the land at the ready; just waiting for my message to arrive with my owl. I can send it today, if you agree."

"Oh, I _do!_ " Hermione responds, and you can picture her throwing her arms around the redhead. "I love you, Ron."

That's enough to set you off. You feel fury running through your veins like fire, and you explode, kicking down the door. Your vision is red, your gun is pointed straight at the pair, where they are sitting together on the bed of rags, far too close for comfort. The redhead's mouth drops open stupidly, freezing up in shock. Hermione's eyes are rapidly filling with tears as she stares at you, pleading.

"Cormac, _please_ , put the gun down," she begs, scrambling forward clumsily, falling to your feet, a mess of fear and upset and fuzzy brown hair. But it's far too late for listening; you've been pushed over the edge and in an instant the gun is trained on her, your other hand gripping the candle like another weapon, oblivious to the hot wax dripping down your fingers in your fit of rage.

"Please, let us go," Hermione sobs, clasping her hands together, staring up at you with those doe eyes. "I'm not happy with you, you _know_ I'm not, please-"

" _Shut up!_ " you yell, and she falls backwards, hasty to return to her lover's side, sniffling and hiccuping as he wraps his arms around her. "I don't care if you're not happy with me, you _married_ me, now _come here_ Hermione-"

"Against my will!" she shouts in response, angry now, even through the tears. Ron looks shaken but comforts the woman despite that. "I _never_ loved you, you _vile_ , you _evil_ -"

Before the logical part of your mind agrees, your arm is throwing the candle to the floor, seething with hatred. The wood is so dry and dusty that it catches immediately, to your shock and surprise. You hadn't intended on burning down the shack; you needed to throw something and the gun was too precious.

The flames are quick to rise and spread, licking at your fingers and toes. You stare at the fearful couple through the fire of your anger, and hear them calling desperately for help. You narrow your eyes and turn away, your wife's words ringing in your head. She deserves this, as does her stupid freckled lover. One less problem in your perfect life. Besides, you're sure that Lavender has shown an interest in you; she had curtsied to you when you entered her bar the other day.

The moment you step outside, the upper floor collapses, bringing down the entire building. You can feel the heat of the fire on your back, and turn to watch the blaze, your anger finally settling. A twinge of regret raises goosebumps on the back of your neck. You've just killed your wife.

But it's far too late for regret. What's happened has happened, and you're not going to waste your time thinking about it.

 _You scoff, almost shocked at how incredibly air-headed the other people in the court room could be. Damn that Harry with the fastest stallion, couldn't keep his nose out of others' business. How he ever found out that it was you, you'll never know. As for the reason why, as the judge insisted on asking? It should have been obvious enough. "I couldn't let 'im take my one true love away."_

* * *

A/N: _Me: *aggressively googling* Did cowboys have a court system?_

 _Google: No idea, but would you like to read about Ezekiel Elliott instead?_

 _Me: What?_

* * *

 **HOGWARTS SCHOOL OF WITCHCRAFT AND WIZARDRY (CHALLENGES & ASSIGNMENTS)**

 **Assignment #3:** **Criminology Task 1:** Write about someone starting a physical or metaphorical fire

 **Chocolate Frog Cards Club:** **Circe (Silver):** Write about someone getting their revenge

 **Dragon Breeding Club:** Peggy the Romanian Longhorn

 **Garage Sale Competition:** **7.** Carpet

 **Gobstones Club:** **Silver Stone:** (theme) Death; **Accuracy:** (style) Second Person; **Power:** (item) Candle; **Technique:** (word) Court

 **Insane House Challenge:** **228.** (au) Cowboy

 **Seasonal Challenges:** **Summer Prompts:** (word) Heat; **Fire Element:** (word) Blaze; **Shay's Musical Challenge: Sweeney Todd:** Write about someone who takes revenge too far; **Gryffindor Themed Prompts: Characters (Medium):** Cormac McLaggen (BONUS), **Traits:** Self-righteous; **Summer Astronomy Prompts: Total Lunar Eclipse:** (scenario) Resolving a conflict

 **Writing Club:** **Character Appreciation: 15.** (trait) Arrogant; **Lyric Alley: 15.** Look out 'cause here I come; **Angel's Arcade: 14. Shinnok:** (emotion) Vengeful, (word) Strong, (colour) Gold; **Lo's Lowdown: O3.** (genre) Crime; **Film Festival: 44.** (dialogue) "I couldn't let them take my one true love away.", **53.** (object) Gun


	20. Bloom

**20\. Bloom**  
Romance/Friendship, 739 words, Rated K

* * *

Emerald green robes swept the long, dew-coated grass under the inky darkness of a cloudy midnight sky. The castle, towering behind her, cast the faintest glow into the chilly air from the few windows still lit up. She certainly _hoped_ there wouldn't be students out of bed at this hour, though she had a free week from patrolling the halls for the first time in a while.

The more prominent light source was straight ahead, where one of the various school greenhouses was emitting a warm glow through the cloudy glass. Minerva let herself smile, though she rolled her eyes at the Herbology professor's antics.

" _Nox,_ " she murmured, dulling the light from her wand and placing it back into the pocket of her robes. She pulled the garment tighter to her body, every exhale leaving a cloudy mark in the air. She had a blanket rolled up under her arm, but that wasn't for her.

The greying woman gently opened the door to the greenhouse, only to be met by cheerful humming from the building's occupant, which cut off the moment an icy breeze was let in.

"Minerva!" Pomona Sprout greeted the older woman, straightening up on her stool. She let her teeth clatter for a moment before clenching her jaw and rubbing her gloved hands together. "Close the door, will you?"

Minerva did just that with her free hand, and made her way over to her lover, grateful for the warmth the glass house provided. It was still cool, but took away the icy edge to the winter air; enough to keep the plants growing within alive.

Pomona resumed tending to one such plant, a beautiful periwinkle blue flower, still blooming despite the time of year. Its leaves and vines were a minty green, curling around the main stalk.

"Is that the flower I gave you?" Minerva asked, her heart warming to the thought as she wrapped the blanket around the shorter woman. She'd found the little plant lying on the grounds earlier in the school year, and had no idea what it had been. A single flower and a stalk two inches long, a clipping off of the original plant, which was nowhere to be seen. "I barely recognise it."

"I know!" Pomona responded, glancing up at the spectacled professor, her warm brown eyes sparkling with excitement. "Isn't it amazing? I still haven't identified it; it blossoms year round and has the most beautiful tendrils. I potted it, when you gave it to me, and it actually rooted, even though all it had was a stem. It's a strong little one." She stroked one of the leaves affectionately, a wide smile creasing her face.

"So it is," Minerva agreed sweetly, using her wand to pull over another stool. Pomona smiled at her, huddling close to her for warmth and attempting to spread the blanket over both of their shoulders. Minerva appreciated the action, though the quilt didn't offer quite as much warmth as Pomona's wider body. "Why's it in a teapot, though?"

"Oh, right." The squat woman let out a light laugh, her cheeks reddening. "Well, it's a family teapot. My mother's, and her mother's before her, and so on. It was intended to be used as - well - a _teapot_ , but I'll probably be the last of our family to have it. And honestly, it's a bit too chipped and cracked to hold tea-"

Minerva chuckled, because it wasn't, really. Its pretty floral design was faded, but the white ceramic was almost completely unscathed. She vaguely wondered how many times _Reparo_ had been cast upon it.

"So I repurposed it," Pomona finished sheepishly. "Into a flower pot."

Minerva cuddled up against the woman, smiling fondly. "Of course _you_ would."

"I _was_ keeping it in my room, at my bedside," Pomona explained, "but the castle gets so cold in the winter, I think it'll do better out here."

"It's kind of symbolic, isn't it?" Minerva mused. "Keeping something that represents both your partner and your family."

Pomona blushed heavily, turning her head the face the taller woman. "I was going to say something like that, but it sounded cheesy," she admitted, grinning sheepishly.

Minerva kissed her on the nose, bringing colour to both their cheeks. "Even if everything you said was cheesy, I'd still love you," she murmured.

Pomona smiled, her eyes fluttering closed sleepily. "Thank you, Minnie," she responded, quietly but appreciatively. "I love you too."

* * *

A/N: _Minerva/Pomona is HIGHKEY MY OTP_

* * *

 **HOGWARTS SCHOOL OF WITCHCRAFT AND WIZARDRY (CHALLENGES & ASSIGNMENTS)**

 **Assignment #3:** **Lineage Studies Task 1:** Write about an object that has been passed through at least three generations of a family (This can be canon or made up) (Restriction: no using Harry's Invisibility Cloak)

 **Dragon Breeding Club:** Peggy the Romanian Longhorn

 **Garage Sale Competition:** **4.** Teapot

 **Gobstones Club:** **Purple Stone:** (theme) Gratitude; **Accuracy:** (item) Blanket; **Power:** (word) Emerald; **Technique:** (colour) Periwinkle

 **Insane House Challenge:** **44.** (character) Minerva McGonagall

 **Seasonal Challenges:** **Days of the Year: Old Maid's Day:** Write about someone over the age of sixty; **Gryffindor Themed Prompts: Characters (Medium):** Minerva McGonagall

 **Writing Club:** **Cookie's Crafty Corner: Blanket Squares:** Write about an object that has been passed down the generations


	21. Take the Time to Know Me

**21.** **Take the Time to K** **now Me**

Drama/Friendship, 1593 words, Rated T

* * *

It hit the country out of nowhere.

The ground trembled like a dying mouse beneath the paws of a cat; the earth creaked and groaned as it violently shook. Unstable buildings were crumbling, people were collapsing in the city streets, dodging uncontrollable vehicles and falling trees. Car alarms wailed as London took the brunt of the earthquake, having had no warning. Screams echoed against the buildings of the city, a cacophony of distressed sounds as disaster struck in the early morning rush hour.

Cho had just left her house to head off to work. She hadn't been in the best of moods as she walked through outer-city suburbs, her teeth grit and fists clenched around her handbag. Her Muggle husband had been giving her some grief in the recent days, only having discovered her being a witch a couple of weeks ago. She could empathise that he was frustrated for her keeping it from him, and his lack of understanding regarding her background and world, but was in a sour mood nonetheless as she set off at a brisk walk.

She had nearly reached the building of St Mungo's when she was knocked off of her feet with the initial tremor. The screaming began as the earthquake's power rapidly grew; her soft brown eyes were filled with shock and concern as they darted from person to person, instinctively checking for injuries. As she attempted to stand, she was quick to fall back once more, and narrowly missed being hit by a car swerving up onto the sidewalk.

"Holy-" she cut herself off, scrambling to balance herself on her hands and knees. She felt a pull on her heart as she forced herself to turn away from those in need; she needed to save herself first, because what use was a dead Healer?

She began to crawl down the pavement, eyes darting around in a panicked whirl, seeking out shelter as another heavy tremor nearly threw her sideways. Just as she had spotted one of the newly installed benches with enough room to squeeze beneath, a low moan from the road took hold of her attention.

A man lay on his side on the smooth tarmac, knees pulled to his chest and large, calloused hands gripping his shin. She could make out blood blossoming on the leg of his pants, and despite her orders for self-preservation first, the pained expression he was making urged her to clumsily but hastily make her way over, black hair swinging from the shaking as she moved.

"Sir, I need you to come this way," she shouted over the racket, gesturing to the sidewalk with one hand and gently steadying herself and grabbing his attention with her other.

He bit his lip, holding back another groan. "It's broken, I know it," he spat, and she glanced to the leg he was holding warily.

A car began to beep madly, and Cho glanced up to see it swerving from one lane to another, brakes squealing but ultimately useless if the vehicle was to avoid hitting them.

The young woman bit her lip and in an instant, forcefully shoved the man to the side, aware of how painful it would be (but better than death, surely). She rolled to the opposite side in the nick of time, and the car continued to screech as it flew past, beeping at other fallen pedestrians.

Cho returned to the redhead's side with haste, grateful that the shaking was losing its intensity; he was hissing in pain, freckled face scrunched up and knuckles white.

" _Bloody hell_ , that _hurt_ -"

"I'm so sorry, I know I shouldn't have," she apologised quickly, the words blurring together in her haste. She couldn't treat him on the side of the road like this, even though her supplies were on hand.

She didn't know she had spoken aloud.

"Get inside," another man's voice was instructing, cold but shaky. She glanced upwards in surprise, to be met with a pale hand outstretched; the man had managed to stand, and was beckoning her to an open door behind him.

"What about-?"

"I'll carry him," the blond man offered, his voice softer this time, and he pulled her to her feet. She staggered over to the door, glancing back as the stranger attempted to pick up the much bulkier redhead bridal style. He nearly dropped him.

"Jesus, let me help," Cho stated, hurrying back over to share some of the injured man's weight. Between the two of them, it was still a massive strain on their muscles, but in minutes they were all indoors, the redhead lying out on a beautiful mahogany dining table. There were broken dishes and glass from what might have been an expensive vase all over the floor, and though the earthquake had stopped, Cho knew there would be an aftershock; whether in an hour or a day, she wasn't sure, but stayed on her toes. She'd have to act quickly either way.

"What do you need?" the resident of the small town house inquired, watching her tie up her ebony hair.

"Nothing," Cho responded, waving away his concerns as she rooted through her handbag. Pulling out a pair of sharp scissors, she made a small cut in the pants above the knee of the injured man. "Hope you're not too attached to your trousers," she muttered, and began to make a rough cut around his knee and down his calf while the other man held him down. Once she had removed the pant leg and the redhead's shoe and sock, she was able to assess the injury. His leg was already sporting various long scars, and a couple wounds had only just healed. He must have aggravated a fresh one, causing it to open up again. The shape of his leg wasn't in the best condition either; a sickly green bruise was beginning to form over an odd lump on his shin.

"I'm pretty sure it's broken," Cho murmured, gently pressing around the lump with her fingertips, causing the redhead to hiss and squirm. "A classic tib/fib fracture, I'm guessing. The blood is just from the skin being grazed."

She glanced to the other man, who had, to her surprise, revealed a wand from his pocket.

"I can fix it faster," he assured her, grey eyes piercing but wary of her reaction.

Cho revealed her own wand, staring at him. She gently lowered his wand with her free hand. "Let a professional handle this."

He blinked. "Who are you?" he asked curiously.

"Cho Chang," she responded, placing her wand tip to the injured leg. "Please hold him down again."

"I'm Draco," he replied, his next word a lower mumble as he restrained the redhead. "Malfoy."

Cho raised her eyebrows; she'd be lying if she said she didn't recognise the name. The Malfoys didn't have the most respectable reputation anymore, not after the war those years ago. Nevertheless, she had no time to judge.

" _Tergeo_ ," she murmured, watching the blood on his leg seep back into the wound and heal over. " _Ferula_." Bandages spun up and around the leg, binding it tight to a splint. "That should take the edge off of it."

"Sweet _Merlin_ ," the redhead gasped, falling back limply onto the table. Draco and Cho exchanged a glance. "I come home from Romania for _one week_ and we get an _earthquake?_ Bloody hell."

Draco chuckled nervously, sweeping a pale hand through his platinum blond hair. "What are the chances all three of us would be wizards?" he joked lamely, havint picked up on the same word Cho did - Merlin, obviously.

"Thanks for - well, everything you've just done for me," the freckled man said, sitting up on the table awkwardly. "I'm Charlie Weasley, pleasure to meet you."

"Cho Chang," the young woman introduced herself, her hand swamped by Charlie's larger one as she shook it.

"Draco," the blond added reluctantly, bringing Charlie to narrow his eyes at him.

"Malfoy?"

Draco nodded, his gaze dropping.

"I've a brother who used to rant about you _all_ the time," Charlie informed the man, sizing him up with suspicion.

"For good reason," Draco mumbled. "I was a git in school."

Cho rolled her eyes. "Gentlemen, I appreciate that we all survived and could become great friends in here, but there's going to be an aftershock at some point after that earthquake, and I need to get people off the streets before it hits."

"They're welcome to come in here," Draco offered, stepping towards her.

Cho nodded gratefully. "You do have a lovely dining table. It should hold up nicely, and we can fit a few people beneath it." Draco blinked at her.

"Can I walk on this?" Charlie inquired, lifting up his casted leg. "I know I'm injured, but I can lift _other_ injured people."

Cho gazed at the muscular man thoughtfully. "In any other case, I'd say absolutely not. But I guess if you damage it any worse, I can fix it up later, if you can help me save lives."

Charlie saluted her with a grin, forming dimples in his freckled cheeks. "Yes ma'am."

And even though the natural disaster was nothing to celebrate, the three didn't mind each other's company as they sat out the aftershock under that lovely table. They sent small smiles in each other's direction as they comforted the other Muggles they had saved, glad to have dulled the screams in that street.

* * *

 **HOGWARTS SCHOOL OF WITCHCRAFT AND WIZARDRY (CHALLENGES & ASSIGNMENTS)**

 **Assignment #3:** **Care of Magical Creatures Task:** Write about three unlikely people coming together for something; **Extra Credit:** Bonus if the people are from three different houses

 **Dragon Breeding Club:** Eliza the Antipodean Opaleye

 **Garage Sale Competiton:** **2.** Vase

 **Insane House Challenge:** **747.** (job) Healer

 **Seasonal Challenges:** **Gryffindor Themed Prompts: Characters (Easy):** Charlie Weasley

 **Writing Club:** **Disney Challenge: S2.** Write about someone finding the good in something bad; **Cookie's Crafty Corner: Cast On:** Write about characters meeting for the first time; **Em's Emporium: 5.** Write about a survivor; **Bex's Bazaar: D4.** Write about something unusual happening


	22. Stranger

**22\. Stranger**  
Drama/Friendship, 898 words, Rated T  
Warnings: Implied death

* * *

I straightened the flashy scarlet-and-gold tie to my neck as I examined myself in the mirror, shooting my reflection a charming smile. The gleaming badge pinned to my chest filled me with utmost pride; I would have been surprised, had one of my reckless dormmates or feather-headed girls from the other Houses been chosen as Head Girl instead, but earning the title was still a reward that I was happy to show off.

"It's not _bragging_ ," I pointed out to my close friend, Trevor Hawkes, who was raising an eyebrow at me skeptically over breakfast one morning. "It's just some self-appreciation."

"Don't 'self-appreciate' yourself _too_ much," one of the girls seated next to me advised, smiling sweetly. She was one of many listening in on the conversation intently. "You're already one of the richest kids in this school. You hardly need to love yourself any more than you already do, with all the money you spend."

"Are you complaining?" I asked her, feigning shock as I lay a hand on my chest (not the side with the badge, no, that had to remain in view). "Sounds like someone doesn't want an invitation to my place this Christmas break. I'm _sure_ you recall how enjoyable my indoor swimming pool was."

"Definitely was not complaining!" she amended herself hastily, grinning at the thought. "I never spoke a word." I grinned.

I met the Head Boy for the second time that school year in the evening. He and I were to discuss Prefect duties and schedules for the term. I felt that there was a slight rivalry between us; for he was a Slytherin and I a Gryffindor, and his personality was ever so slightly... _off_. Nevertheless, Tom Riddle was a charming and intelligent boy, and we got along just fine. It must have been my imagination, when I felt his gaze burning into me every time I glanced down at my papers, for when I looked up again, his piercing brown eyes were focused on his own notebook.

My giggling group of friends were very eager to point out that I was lucky enough to spend time with one of the hottest boys in the school. I rolled my eyes and laughed, though my heart would flutter slightly and my cheeks blush.

For Tom Riddle _was_ good-looking. And he was so damn modest about it. I was still very proud of my appearance, but I would have flaunted it to no end if I were as attractice as he was, with his dark, neatly combed hair, impressive cheek bones and a jawline that could cut steel.

With every time I met him, I felt him growing on me; his small smirk, the way he rested his cheek on his narrow hand when he was bored. I often found myself bragging about my own life to him, though I tried not to. I wanted to impress him, so many things would spill to the charismatic boy. My home life as an only child, with my wealthy parents - both Muggles, wouldn't you know - and grand, spacious house. How I could play five different instruments, though had given them all up because they were boring, despite the expenses of buying each one and paying for lessons. How much of a struggle it was to convert Muggle money to wizarding money before school each year, mainly because my father was terrified of the Goblins at Gringotts.

Tom always seemed more interested in our duties, as a responsible student, and I admired that. Maybe if anyone else had made Head Boy, I wouldn't have gossiped so much. He didn't ever talk about his own life, but smiled and nodded charmingly when I spoke of mine. I was encouraged by that.

When he began wearing a ring on his finger later in the year, my friends joked that we were engaged. I could only wish that one day we might, though I thought our little unspoken rivalry was causing some hesitance on his side to show an interest in me.

I was foolish in my school years. Naive, and stupid, and selfish for keeping what I had to myself. I should have shared my fortune with everyone whose path I crossed; I should have been modest regarding my luxurious childhood; I should have done more to avoid so many regrets.

The Tom I thought I knew was a complete stranger. He had never loved me; he'd never loved anyone. He was a psychopath wearing the mask of an angel. He was Lord Voldemort. The rivalry between us that I thought he lived by was utter contempt. I was a Mudblood who had more than he could have ever wished for. I never realised how much my self-appreciation would cost me.

It was a violent, wintery night, whipped by forceful winds and icy-hard snow. I answered the knock on my door with a puzzled, tired expression; and then I froze on the spot, surprise and fear rooting me to the ground at the sight that awaited me. An unfamiliar but tall, broad-shouldered man, his hair unkempt and teeth crooked and yellowing, mouth pulled into the most unsettling smirk, wand pointed straight at my throat.

"Tom sends his love," he taunted me. I felt sickened. There was a yell and a blinding green light, and I knew no more.

* * *

A/N: _Honestly I've been putting off writing this one for a while, but I'm really happy with how it came out! I haven't been too delighted with a few of the latest chapters of this book, but I do like this one. It's a refreshing feeling, being able to take pride in your work :D_

* * *

 **HOGWARTS SCHOOL OF WITCHCRAFT AND WIZARDRY (CHALLENGES & ASSIGNMENTS)**

 **Assignment #2:** **Philosophy Task 2:** Write about someone living a life of luxury

 **Chocolate Frog Cards Club:** **Podric Piles (Bronze):** Write about a Riddle Era Head of Gryffindor House (can be an OC)

 **Dragon Breeding Club:** Eliza the Antipodean Opaleye

 **Garage Sale Competition:** **15.** Ring

 **Gobstones Club:** **Red Stone:** (theme) Good vs Evil; **Accuracy:** (emotion) Surprise; **Power:** (item) House tie; **Technique:** (trait) Selfish

 **Insane House Challenge:** **935.** (relationship) Rivalry

 **Seasonal Challenges:** **Shay's Musical Challenge: Joseph and the Technicolour Dreamcoat:** Write about someone who flaunts what they have

 **Writing Club:** **Character Appreciation: 15.** (title) Head Boy; **Lyric Alley: 17.** I'm not scared to be seen; **Ami's Audio Admirations: 2.** Write about a character who is popular; **Em's Emporium: 9.** Write about an unapologetic Gryffindor; **Film Festival: 3.** (plot point) Getting along with enemies/rival


	23. Little Talks

**23\. Little Talks**  
Romance/Friendship, 750 words, Rated T

* * *

George thrummed his fingers upon his desk top rhythmically, his usually light-hearted and open features pressed into an expression of nerves. For the first time in as long as he could remember, his finger nails were flawlessly clean and trim, his hands soft and unscathed. His lips, usually chapped or cracked from smiling too often, were well moisturised where he was biting them anxiously with shiny white teeth.

The young man breathed out a frustrated sigh, discontinuing the thrumming to run his freckled hands through a fiery mop of hair. Molly would be furious that he had messed it up for the fifth time that hour, but he was restless. He wasn't working on any pranks or products (those had been banned for the week at _least_ ); he had been left to sit in his room with a worryingly expensive suit lying on his bed and nothing but his thoughts for comfort.

"Merlin's saggy left tit, I don't think I've ever seen you so stressed in your entire life!"

George nearly jumped out of his skin at the sudden remark from behind him. He did, in fact, jump out of his desk chair, whirling around, completely startled. " _Lee!_ "

His boyfriend grinned at him mischievously. The young man had cleaned himself up nicely; his ebony dreadlocks were smooth and even, pulled up into a neat bun of sorts. His skin, too, appeared to be unusually soft and shiny; George wondered vaguely if Molly had been overseeing his fiancé's skincare routines for the past month too. Mostly though, he kind of wanted to feel Lee's hands for himself.

"You're not supposed to be in here!" George reprimanded the man, though couldn't help but crack a smile, which only grew as Lee drew closer to him.

"I know," the dark-haired boy admitted carelessly, grinning like a shark. Evidently, he was quite proud of himself. "I snuck in. I mean, I wasn't going to wait until the _wedding_ to come see you - that's _hours_ away and I knew you'd be having a panic attack without yours truly at your side."

George rolled his warm brown eyes playfully. "I wasn't having a _panic attack_ ," he retorted, though was still uncomfortably aware of his heartbeat. "I was just..."

" _Having a panic attack_ ," Lee emphasised, widening his eyes and nodding slowly, as if the absurd action would convince his boyfriend to agree.

"No!" George laughed, his eyes gleaming with mirth. He quickly sobered. "I'm just... I'm nervous, okay?"

Lee led the redhead over to his bed, where they both sat, wary of the suit. "Why'd you be nervous?" he asked, which sounded much more heartfelt than the question to follow. "Is it because I'm obviously more gay than you?"

George laughed, shoving the darker boy away playfully. "You _wish_ ," he snorted, before letting a more serious tone take charge of the conversation once more. "I mean, it's just - it's a big thing, marriage, right? And I-" he glanced over at Lee, cautious of a reaction. "I do love you, and if there's anyone I would spend the rest of my life with it would definitely be you, no hesitation. But there's so many things that could go wrong, if not today, then a month from now, a _year_ from now - it's a big commitment, you know?"

Lee raised an eyebrow, making quite a comical expression. "Merlin, you'd think this is the kind of stuff you would have asked me _before_ proposing."

George chuckled half-heartedly. "Yeah, you're right, it's stupid-"

"No, no, it's not!" Lee argued hastily, quickly realising that perhaps joking was not the solution in this situation. "I know you're worried, and I'm sorry for poking fun about it. But listen - the two of us, we've come a long way. We've been dating for what - nine years now?"

George smiled appreciatively at his fiancé.

Lee continued, "and any argument we've had - and we've had some nasty ones - we always work things out. And we'll keep working things out. Because we're in love; it's what we do."

George pretended to wipe a tear from his eye, though the wide smile creasing his freckled features said it all. "Aw Lee, you're really great at the whole speech thing." He paused thoughtfully. "Nine years already, though? Wow, we've been together almost a decade. That's wicked."

Lee smirked. "I still have your underwear."

"I still have your virginity."

"Oooh, you're going to hurt me like that on my wedding day?"

"I love you," George declared, and smiled.

* * *

 **HOGWARTS SCHOOL OF WITCHCRAFT AND WIZARDRY (CHALLENGES & ASSIGNMENTS)**

 **Assignment #4:** **Women's History Task 12:** Write about someone undergoing a major change in their life

 **Back to School:** **14.** (dialogue) "I still have your underwear." / "I still have your virginity."

 **Insane House Challenge:** **120.** (pairing) Lee/George

 **Seasonal Challenges:** **Gryffindor Themed Prompts: Characters (Easy):** Lee Jordan

 **Writing Club:** **Book Club: Linus:** (relationship) boyfriend, (action) smiling, (dialogue) "Is it because I'm obviously more gay than you?"


	24. Mercy

**24\. M** **ercy**

Angst/Hurt, 684 words, Rated T

* * *

"Who are you?"

The voice was firm, and cold. Charlie couldn't see the speaker from his cramped and uncomfortable position, crouched in the ceiling vents of the biggest maze of a building he had ever infiltrated.

"Who I am doesn't matter."

The response was dead and completely lacking any emotion. Charlie's pale blue eyes squinted warily through the grate. She was seated in an old wooden chair, staring without focus at the wall directly in from of her. Her posture was unnaturally stiff and tall for a girl of her age. Of _his_ age. She couldn't have been older than nineteen.

"What is your purpose?" the voice pressed.

Charlie held his breath, hearing footsteps in the empty room below. A dark figure was moving, slowly, predator-like, in a circular movement around the chair. _That must be Riddle_ , he thought to himself, hoping that his heartbeat wasn't as loud as it felt.

"To do as I'm told," the girl responded robotically. Charlie gnawed at his lip; his heart broke for the pain she must have gone through. She was going through. "To hurt people. To kill people."

Her face was youthful, shaded by the positioning of a flickering ceiling light. In stark contrast was her hair, a dull but constant grey, pulled into a tight ponytail. Not a strand was out of place; it was as straight as a ruler. She wore a very thin layer of make-up, likely not by choice, but it wasn't enough to hide the yellowing bruises scattered over her cheekbones and neck. A fresh scar crossed one side of her nose, still pink from an early stage of healing. Despite her notorious reputation as one of the fiercest assassins out there, she was barely an adult.

"And what are you without your purpose?"

The figure closed in on her swiftly, like a hawk, his shadowed face about a ruler-length from her own as he leaned in. She finally acknowledged him properly, tilting her head up to meet his gaze. Charlie felt a sharp pull in his chest as the undeniable fear in her features came to light. There was a sheen over her dark eyes she was trying desperately to mask with a poker face.

"Useless," she responded, quieter than before. "Nothing. No-one."

Her voice cracked, and Riddle exploded.

"DAMN RIGHT YOU ARE!" he screamed, inches from her face, his own red and raging even in the dim light. She shook like a leaf, and her dull hair immediately flashed numerous vivid colours, but didn't dare move.

"Get up," Riddle commanded, regaining some composure. He produced a remote control from his coat pocket, and with the press of a button, the small, bare room was expanding into a vast training area, with countless targets for throwing practice. "I want fifty exact hits within a minute and a half. You've got a _meeting_ with an agent from Potterwatch tomorrow night."

Charlie felt his muscles tense with rage. The other agents of Potterwatch weren't just his coworkers; they were his friends. He took a quiet inhale and turned off the safety lock on his gun, carefully aiming the barrel through the grate. He had a mission.

Yet he found himself hesitant, even as the girl (whose hair was still fading from a sickly yellow), was handed a throwing knife. There were tears in her dark, troubled eyes, clear as day. She fumbled with the knife for a moment, uncharacteristically clumsy considering her reputation. And then with a movement swift and precise, her thin lips parted with focus and the knife lodged itself into the head of a target. She was handed another knife.

Hit after hit; she was relentless, merciless. But they were just targets. And Charlie couldn't bring himself to press the trigger and end her misery. He ran a sweaty hand through his own fiery red hair, biting his lip in frustration. He couldn't do it. She wasn't the emotionless machine everyone claimed master assassin Nymphadora Tonks was. She was more of an experiment of Riddle's. She was just a kid.

 _He_ was just a kid.

And kids don't take orders very well.

* * *

 **HOGWARTS SCHOOL OF WITCHCRAFT AND WIZARDRY (CHALLENGES & ASSIGNMENTS)**

 **Assignment #4:** **Women's History Task 2:** Write a spy!au

 **Back to School:** **5.** (word) Experiment

 **Insane House Challenge:** **476.** (item) Knife

 **Sewing 101:** **Step One:** (object) knife, (word) pull, (colour) grey

 **Writing Club:** **Disney Challenge: T4.** Write about someone breaking rules for a good reason; **Dark Lady's Diabolical Lair: 20.** Write about being treated in a subhuman manner; **Lyric Alley: 1.** Cheated and lied, broken so bad; **Lo's Lowdown: C2.** Write about a woman who can fight


	25. Wild Card

**25\. Wild Card**  
Romance/Drama, 750 words, Rated T

* * *

She was in a broom cupboard. With Sirius Black, of all people.

 _Shit._

"Marly," the boy greeted her awkwardly, and Marlene cringed at his old nickname for her. She couldn't make out his features well in the darkness, but his tone gave away what she could picture as an almost comically uncomfortable expression.

She leaned back against the shelving, not minding how awkward it felt against her back if it meant creating space between them. The cupboard wasn't even an actual _broom_ cupboard; it wasn't used for Quidditch at all. It was one of the caretaker's various cleaning supply closets. It smelled of bleach. And vaguely of Sirius' deodorant. He still wore the same brand as when they'd been dating.

"Sirius," she eventually returned the greeting nonchalantly, attempting to deny that she could feel heat in her cheeks. She self-consciously pulled a few strands of strawberry blonde hair out from behind her ears. Hopefully it was dark enough that her blush was unnoticeable.

The silence between their tense remarks stretched on far too long. Marlene tried not to meet Sirius' desperate grey gaze as her own brown eyes adjusted to the dim lighting. Merlin, having ex-boyfriends was exhausting. She'd avoided interaction for three months straight and the next thing she knew she was being shoved into a closet, the door locked behind her. The work of the Marauders, no doubt - but mainly Sirius. He obviously had something to say.

"I'm so sorry I broke up with you," he blurted loudly, at the same time as she had mumbled,

"Do you really love me?"

Another pause came to follow as they both digested what had been said. She heard Sirius fiddling with his dark, shaggy hair and instinctively glanced up at him. His soft eyes immediately met her own, and she felt her face heat up as if a fire had been lit inside her cheeks. Her gaze hastily returned to a stack of paint buckets.

"I do, Marly," Sirius admitted, voice strained. Three months ago she would have fumed over the statement. She still doubted it was true. But the words conjoured butterflies in her stomach.

"You are a little bit twisted, Sirius Black," Marlene murmured sorrowfully, pulling at a strand of amber hair.

"I know. And I'm... sorry," the boy mumbled. He reached out, and she felt the dry, rough fingertips of his hand affectionately cup her freckled face. The sensation resembled flames on her pale skin, and she couldn't help but lean into his touch. Her inner logic screamed at her.

"Damn you," she sighed, but was suddenly desperate for _more_ , and had thrown herself against him.

Every place where their bodies touched felt like heaven. His lips were a little dry, but nobody had ever kissed her the way Sirius did, with such passion and harmony. She gripped his Gryffindor tie with one hand, pulling his face to meet her own, her other hand feeling its way through his dark hair. She hated herself for every second longer she stayed pressed against him, every small noise that slipped from her throat.

Marlene loved Sirius. She really did. But she shouldn't have. Because Sirius loved any girl who would give up her lips to him, her body to him. And Sirius didn't know how to say no to girls who asked him in all the right ways, whether or not he was in a relationship.

He could believe that _he_ broke up with _her_ , if it let him sleep at night.

Marlene let logic overrule her heart. She pushed away from him suddenly, panting. Sirius' face fell, his hands still held out as if she were safe within his grasp.

"I can't do this," she said to him, upset that she had done anything at all. "It's not fair."

"Marlene," Sirius whined. She cut him off.

"No - _let me talk._ We broke up three months ago. For good reason." She let her gaze meet his, and this time held it, still breathless and rosy-cheeked but fierce and hurting. "Everything should be perfect, right? I should be happy, but I'm not."

Sirius opened his mouth to speak. She glared at him.

"I love you, Sirius, but when you say it back, it has a different meaning."

He had always been a wild card. It was a pity his loyalty was a wild card too.

* * *

 **HOGWARTS SCHOOL OF WITCHCRAFT AND WIZARDRY (CHALLENGES & ASSIGNMENTS)**

 **Assignment #5:** **Charms Task 7:** Write about two people stuck somewhere

 **Back to School:** **26.** (location) Broom Cupboard

 **Insane House Challenge:** **711.** (title) Wild Card

 **Seasonal Challenges:** **Days of the Year:** **National Pink Day:** Write a fic using 'What About Us' by Pink as an inspiration; **Shay's Musical Challenge: The Great Comet of 1812:** Write about someone falling in love with someone they shouldn't be in love with; **Gryffindor Themed Prompts: Characters (Easy):** Sirius Black

 **Writing Club:** **Character Appreciation:** 6\. (house) Gryffindor; **Dark Lady's Diabolical Lair:** "You are a little bit twisted."; **Book Club:** Enzo. (relationship) Ex-boyfriend, (dialogue) "Do you really love me?", (word) Affection; **Showtime:** 5\. (word) Sensation; **Amber's Attic:** 1\. "Perhaps our fatal flaw is that we attempt to make forever out of people who are meant to be temporary" BONUS; **Count Your Buttons:** C2. Marlene McKinnon; **Lyric Alley:** 3\. You play the game, though it's unfair; **Lo's Lowdown:** D1. "Everything should be perfect, right? I should be happy now, but I'm not."; **Film Festival:** 29\. (dialogue) "I'm so sorry I broke up with you."


End file.
